


The Dragonborn's Tale

by freelyf4llen



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Colorblind GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Smut, Some other MCYTers make appearances, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain SBI, either way it mostly became more plot than porn, or is it Plot with Porn?, though not all of them are important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freelyf4llen/pseuds/freelyf4llen
Summary: George of Founetter, a lonesome Dragonborn, was supposed to get married today. The kingdom believed he could get rid of the Great Decay, a plague of rot and chaos that has started to affect the country. However, an unexpected figure from his past stirred things up, and now he found himself in a whirlwind tale involving the Red Duke, a snappy Pyrokene, and a charming Ender who always has something to hide.Smut-related tags apply to Chapters 3, 13 (others to be added).
Relationships: Background BadBoyHalo/Skeppy, Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Original Character, onesided Sapnap/Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), onesided Technoblade/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 238
Kudos: 846





	1. Bloody Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> In which freely attempts to write an actual multichapter fic without giving up halfway through. It actually ended up much longer than I thought yikes (>___>) anyway, here it is! DreamNotFound will still be the endgame ship.

The room was bathed in the brilliant morning light, dust settling in through the window, birdsong flowing by the branches. The pungent smell of sweet pea wafted around the room. The light shone upon a mannequin holding a grand, blue suit with a deep neckline, bedazzled in diamonds and sparkling jewels, embroidered in gold and silk. A gardenia boutonniere innocently hung on one of the lapels. On the table nearby was a bouquet of orchids, sweet peas, and gardenias, all mocking him with their idea of  _ love. _

A fine ensemble for a groom, George would say, if only he loved the man he was to be wedded to. The sickeningly sweet odor was getting to his head. He wanted to leave the room, but he knew he'd be beheaded as soon as he stepped outside the door.

Not without the King's permission, he shan't, for what was he but a danger to the rest of society, a  _ savage _ that needed to be controlled lest he harmed a hair on anyone's head?

If only he could burn away the flowers on the table, turn that ghastly looking suit into ashes, poison the birds with his breath, leap out the window and  _ fly to safety! _ But alas, useless Dragonborn that he was, all he had were his strange, mismatched eyes, and a measly little twinge of flame that ignited by his fingertips. It wasn't very dangerous, mind you, as the most he could do was singe the edge of some parchment before it died out.

It was the King who had made it a bigger issue than it had to be, made a show of conquering his little village, made the people believe that by marrying George, he'd be able to finally resolve the Great Decay terrorizing their kingdom.

_ "He'll use his magic, you see? Our marriage shall bring forth the bloom that has left our crops, that has abandoned our fields! Otherwise, I'll leave his corpse with the rest of his wretched kind." _

George squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to fall asleep again on the soft bed. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, he could will it all away as a mere nightmare, and he'd wake up in his village again with his family, and his friends.

A soft rapping on the door broke him out of his fantasy, and that was all the warning he had before a maid scurried into the room, carrying breakfast.

"'Tis morning, milord," she said, setting the tray down onto the table. "We've only 'till noon before the ceremony starts."

"I'm afraid, Liz," George whispered, keeping his eyes closed. "When the day is over, I'll be  _ his, _ and I'll never live again."

The maid, Liz, sighed as she sat on the bed beside him. "I know, George," she began, "and I wish I could help you more, but there's only so much I can do."

"I don't want to marry him." George looked at her blearily, tears clouding his vision. "I want to go home. I don't want to be his." He would've never said this to anyone else, but Liz had proven that she was on his side more than once, be it taking the blame for his mishaps or attempting to train his powers as a fellow hidden Dragonborn.

She pulled him into a comforting, sisterly hug, shushing him as he cried out onto her shoulder. "Oh George," she sighed, "it really is for the best now."

"I wish he'd just kept me in the dungeons," he sniffled. "Anything's better than being chained to that monster."

"Do you want to attempt using your powers again?"

George shook his head. "I'm too drained. Can't we just postpone the whole wedding instead? Maybe next year? Maybe never?"

"You know he would never agree to that." She pulled away from him, grasping his hands as she helped him up. "Come on, George. We've got our roles to play. Elizabeth the maid—"

"—and George, the captive groom," he finished with a crestfallen sigh.

Liz patted his cheek sympathetically. "Eat now, get some breakfast in you," she said, offering him the tray. "You'll need your strength to get through the day."

George took one look at the plate of fried potatoes and peppers before his stomach churned in agony. He shook his head, pushing the tray away.

"I can't," he said.

"Then I'll let the others know that you're ready for your bath then," she sighed.

George looked around, bewildered. "There shouldn't be the need to let anyone else know I'm bathing."

"But this is your wedding day." Liz's expression twisted into a distraught grimace. "The King saw it fit to prepare you for, um..."

"What...?"

"Your wedding night," she finished in a pained whisper.

George's face turned ashen. "No," he murmured, feeling more faint than before. "No, he can't be planning to—!" He quickly grasped her shaking hand. "You'll be there with me in the bath, won't you?"

Liz shook her head despondently. "People are already accusing us of conspiring against the King. If I'm seen with you while you're in your bath, it would be over for the both of us." She squeezed his hand tightly. "I'll gladly put my head on the line for you, milord, but  _ your _ death, well, I shudder to think of it."

"Death would be better than this miserable place," George wept.

But Liz's stance was final, and he let himself be led towards the grand bath area, where three servants gathered around a tub set into the ground. George watched helplessly as Liz disappeared through the doors, sparing him one last glance before she was truly gone. He remained still even as they undressed him and lowered him into the milk and honey bath, tossing in some roses and geraniums as perfume.

He let his mind wander as they massaged at his arms and his legs, gentle fingers working their way onto his skin, scrubbing away at his impurities. Sometimes, he wished he could muster enough strength to conjure a flame large enough to swallow him whole. How he  _ ached _ to be able to do that now. Maybe he should've eaten breakfast with Liz. It would've prolonged the inevitable, at least.

George let out a sharp gasp when a hand got too close to his crotch. He slapped it away out of shock, before he resumed an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry," he said numbly. "I'd rather take care of that myself."

"It's going to hurt if you leave yourself unprepared, milord," said the servant.

"I know what to do," George answered. "Thank you."

"Very well."

George pretended not to hear the hiss of  _ Dragonborn _ under one of their breaths. He knew they could care less if he got hurt or not—what mattered to them was the end of the plague, after all. Who would worry about some schmuck like  _ him? _

Liz would, perhaps. He wished she were there with him, if only for support.

And  _ him... _ if he survived the— _ no, George, to think of him now would be a disservice to his memory. _

"Ring for us when you've finished, milord," said another, handing him a bottle of oil. "The King requested for you to apply this once you've rinsed off." They left briskly, shoes clacking against the stone tiles.

George fumbled with the bottle and left it at the edge of the tub before he cleaned himself down below. The least he could do was make the experience a little less painful for himself, although he's sure that the King would be none too gentle with his body. He attempted to push a finger into himself, hissing slightly at the pain.

He pictured for himself a gentle lover, faceless but reassuring as they carefully eased into him with lubed fingers. They would pet his hair and whisper adoringly in his ear as he struggled to take them in. "You're so good, George," they would say, "You're doing so well."

George pressed his fingers further into himself with a gasp. His imaginary lover now held him in their arms, watching as he stretched himself. Their hands became calloused, freckles dusting his skin, rough fingertips sliding down his cock as his own, dexterous ones pistoned in and out of his hole. He could almost picture  _ him _ now, always so gentle, so  _ careful _ with him.

"Dream," falls out of George's mouth in a soft, reverent whisper. He ignored the pang in his chest as he imagined a dirty blond head nestling against the crook of his neck, planting kisses onto his shoulders.

"George," Dream would sigh into his ear, before he nipped at his earlobe. "Does this feel good, George?"

And it  _ did, _ and George knew he had to stop himself before he came all over his bath. He shakily pulled his fingers out of himself and willed his erection away, wiping the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Nobody would treat him as carefully as Dream did, and to hope otherwise would be absolutely ridiculous.

No one would, not again, as the Siege of Wyktan had cruelly ripped his best friend from him before he had a chance to tell him how much he loved him. A year had passed since then, yet he still couldn't bring himself to forget about his sweet Dream.

George sighed. He just hoped that all of his meager efforts wouldn't go to waste.

He rinsed away the milk and the floral scents from his body and reached for the fragrant oil, applying it all over his skin. George took a whiff of the scent—most likely roses, as well as something rather intoxicating. He couldn't help but feel a tingle in his skin once it had dried. He rang for the three as they told him, and they arrived with the bejeweled suit, some underclothes, and a pair of shoes.

George silently put on the ensemble, the linen underclothes soft against his skin, and the silk velvety smooth against his body. He felt a little exposed, given the suit's neckline, even though it showed nothing past his upper chest. The lace capelet they'd brought along provided him some sense of modesty though, embroidered with the royal crest as well as some ornate stitches. He couldn't help but think of it as some sort of veil, and his stomach churned at the thought of the wedding.

The servants powdered his face and applied rouge on his cheeks before weaving gardenias into his hair. He felt like a doll, all primped up but ultimately helpless. Finally, one handed him the bouquet, and quickly ushered him outside.

"Can't I say goodbye to Liz?" he asked, alarmed. Things were going far too fast for his liking.

They said nothing as they ushered him into another corridor leading to a heavy, ornate set of doors. Beyond them lay George's fate. Beyond them lay his slow demise.

Beyond them awaited the King.

When the doors opened, two armored guards were sent to accompany him on either side as he walked the length of the red carpet, feeling the judging stares of the crowd burning into his skin. It took all of George's strength not to break down in front of everyone, taking a deep breath instead.

"Don't try anything, Dragonborn," grunted the guard to his right, "or we'll make sure your death will be long and torturous."

_ As if his married life wouldn't be torturous enough! _ George bit back a hollow chuckle.

George could see the King waiting by the altar, golden crown resting on top of murky, grey hair. He could practically  _ smell _ the smugness radiating off of him.

The guards kept close by even as they reached the front, watching carefully beside him and the King. The cleric opened the massive tome and started speaking in a solemn voice. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

"You're the loveliest thing I've ever seen," the King whispered in a gravelly tone.

"Thank you," George replied curtly.

_ "...to join two souls in holy matrimony and pay witness to their vows..." _

"I can't wait to rip that suit off of you tonight." And there it was.

_ "I present to you, George of Founetter..." _

"You're terribly forward, Your Majesty," George hissed through gritted teeth.

_ "...and His Royal Majesty, King Technoblade of Everial." _

"Why play coy with what's going to be mine?"

The cleric turned to address the King. "Your Majesty, your vows?"

Before King Technoblade could open his mouth, a shower of glass suddenly resounded from behind. Three masked men—maybe four, maybe five—crashed in through the windows, sending the guests into a frenzy. The sound of thundering, clanking armor echoed in the halls, followed by horrible, horrible screams.

George's heart dropped. He could suddenly see the chaos unraveling before his eyes, brown in his vision where red should be, men and women alike lost to the blades of the arriving armored attackers. The smell of the sweet peas and the gardenias mixed with the scent of copper and rust; George couldn't help but feel nauseous.

_ Where's Liz? _

"What is this?!" Techno growled, unsheathing his sword as the masked men drew nearer. "Stay back!"

The guards beside them also drew their swords. However, to George's surprise, one of them suddenly grabbed him by the waist, while the other pointed his weapon at Techno.

"Long live the King!" said the guard, unflinching as Techno took on a fighting stance.

"You're not my men, are you?" Techno scowled, eyes narrowing.

The attackers said nothing as they began their onslaught, pelting him with arrows and swinging their many blades at him. George's stomach churned even worse, even as the guard holding him surprisingly kept him safe from the chaos.

Techno would survive, as he always does. George watched, terrified, as two men were suddenly flung across the room.

"Give him to me," said one of the masked men. "It's our mission to make sure the Dragonborn returns to the King unharmed."

_ Which king is it this time? _ George wanted to scream. He was so  _ tired _ of being passed around like property, being accused of knowing things he didn't, when all he wanted to do was to live normally. Maybe normal wasn't really meant for him.

George found himself being hoisted over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and suddenly he was out of the castle, and into the great outdoors.

The great  _ smoking _ outdoors.

Fire and ash met his vision as he saw the castle burning down to the ground; bright, fiery tongues lapping at the stone brick, dark clouds of smoke filling the air. Unable to hold back any longer, George clung onto his captor's cloak and sobbed freely for the first time since that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I needed an antagonist, so I apologize to Techno fans...~~


	2. Everial's Exalted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> TW: Descriptions of blood and gore ahead, although I don't think it's that graphic.
> 
> A brief perspective change! We'll get back to our boy shortly, don't worry. This is a bit shorter than the last chapter, sorry! I'll make up for it with the next one. ( ´ ▽ ` )

Technoblade dragged his sword across the floor, the crimson liquid dripping down its blade. He nimbly stepped over the bloodied bodies by his feet, slicking back the sweaty, pink hair matted to his forehead. The door flew open, revealing one of his most trusted generals, the Earl of Sotteron himself.

"Wilbur," he said calmly.

"Techno!" the other man hissed. "What are you still doing here?! Phil has already led most of the civilians to safety."

"There are traitors in our midst, Wilbur." Techno replied, ignoring the lack of formalities. He had known the man for so long anyhow, had stuck by his side for who knows how long.

"I know," Wilbur snapped. "And they're burning the goddamn castle down right now. The walls will hold, but we have to go _now._ "

"The guards, where are the guards?!" Techno followed Wilbur down the hall, his footsteps clacking on the stone floors.

The castle had never looked worse. It looked almost unrecognizable even, with how much red and black were smeared onto the rocky halls.

Where there were once banners of blue and gold hanging proudly on the walls, there were only bloodstained rags splattered with gore. Some were already charred and torn, the blatant mockery of his kingdom's symbols bringing his blood to a boil.

Where he'd expected the sound of servants scurrying from room to room, he was only met with silence. He thought he recognized a few of the faces lying down on the floor, frozen still in a display of horror and resignation. Their bodies were laying on a pool of their own blood, defenseless against their attackers.

His stomach churned uneasily in his gut.

These were his _people._ His kingdom. Who _dared_ to betray Everial like this? Why would they drag innocent lives into their massacre?

"Techno, are you even listening to me?"

He snapped back to attention, his hand closing over the hilt of his sword. "Yes," he replied, trying to keep the quiver out of his voice, before he finally relented. "No." He drew his mouth into a thin line. "Forgive me, Wilbur, but I cannot think straight."

He was absolutely _livid_ , his mind screaming for justice, for _vengeance!_ How could he think of himself in a tragedy like this?

"I understand," Wilbur replied heavily. "It's a lot to process. Like I said, the guards were ambushed early on. I daresay it's not too difficult to determine the culprits." He gestured over to a fallen knight by the corner, already long-gone, as far as Techno could tell. Of course, Technoblade would recognize that coat of arms anywhere, as well as that trim around the armor; all depicted in garish shades of turquoise.

" _Invidel,_ " he said in a low growl.

Wilbur nodded somberly. "Who else? They must've started the fire too; I can't imagine any rebel in Everial doing such a thing at a time like this."

"It's a waste," Techno grunted. "Water is scarce this month. The crops won't be ready by the time harvest season rolls around."

"Not to mention the Great Decay affecting us too." Wilbur pressed his hand against the wall, pushing a brick into place and revealing a hidden corridor. "I'm betting that a halfling is involved. No one could set such a fire this severe that quickly without pyrokinesis."

"Damned things," Techno cursed, locking the entrance behind him. "They should've stayed in the Moorlands instead of bringing their rot here with them."

"You almost married one yourself," Wilbur laughed. "Or was it just his body you were after? He didn't seem all that powerful to me."

The secret passageways were dank and musty, having been unused for years. Each step echoed throughout the rocky halls, and so they took care not to make too much noise. The torch-lit area gave way to a study hidden below the castle, and Techno was surprised to see another prominent member of his inner circle.

"Most of the people are unharmed, and the soldiers have taken care of most of the Invidel assailants." His advisor, the Duke of Ardeca reported. "There's yet to be news of whether King Skeppy is also here or not. But on another note, are you quite alright, Techno? It's been quite a day, hasn't it?"

"It's been... a lot, Phil," Techno admitted wearily, sinking down onto a spare seat. "I thought I'd be at least a step closer to figuring out a solution to this problem. I didn't need those bastards ruining my plans."

"Did you seriously believe that boy could solve the plague?" Wilbur asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. " _Him?_ "

"Of course not," Techno shot back. "He's only a step forward. You know the legends about the Moors—only halflings could open the portal."

"True," Phil murmured. "But are we risking the lives of our soldiers for a myth? There could be some other way to go about these things."

"You've told me the same thing before, Phil," Techno sighed. "We wouldn't know unless we tried."

"Think Invidel went after your boy for that same reason?" Wilbur interjected.

Techno's eyes widened. "What...?"

He'd forgotten about George, _damn it all,_ where did he—?

"The masked man took him," Techno said numbly. Phil looked at him sympathetically, while Wilbur nodded slowly.

The masked men—all draped in cloaks of green and masks of birch—weren't usually part of Skeppy's army. Did he decide to hire mercenaries too, that coward? Was he afraid of getting beaten again?

The sound of thundering footsteps suddenly caught their attention, each man readying himself for combat.

"Techno!" called out a distressed voice.

The king's eyes widened, recognizing his cousin. There he stood, the Duke of Innstile himself, hair disheveled, eyes wide in panic. He had with him two women, one unconscious in the other's arms.

"I-I-It's her, sirs," said the woman, her voice trembling. "The _witch!_ I have no doubt it is she who's brought this day to ruin."

"I didn't know if she was lying," the young duke babbled, "so I've brought them here."

"I know her," Technoblade said, his brows furrowing in thought. "George's maid."

The two had been nearly inseparable, even when George was still in the dungeons. She would bring him his meals, and on one or more occasions, they would talk. He never got to catch their conversations as she'd always excuse herself in his presence and make her leave.

"Truly, truly," said the other woman. "Liz, her name is. Yes. She's been colluding with the Dragonborn since the day they met!"

_Maybe those conversations were something he should've been warier of after all._

Techno clenched his jaw tightly. "Tommy, bring her out of here."

"You heard His Majesty!" Tommy snapped. The maid yelped and scrambled out of the room. She'd know the way out; all the servants would've known about these hidden halls, after all.

"Nice job," Wilbur snorted. 

Tommy glared at him for a second before turning back to the king. "She's a traitor then. There is no other fitting punishment for her than death!"

" _Or,_ " Wilbur countered, "we could use her to find George. He's close with her, is he not?"

"We'll need to make a decision soon," Phil interrupted. "There's only so much time before the walls could hold, or we'll end up suffocating in the smoke."

"Not to mention the wars!" Tommy gaped. "Invidel's here, aren't they? We'll need a strong defense; I'll gather my soldiers!"

"Silence!" Technoblade bellowed, his eyes sharp and wild. He relished the immediate quiet that followed as he weighed his options, mind racing as he ran through the mental calculations. Finally, he lifted his head.

"Your Grace," he said, pointing at Phil. "You've got the artilleries of Ardeca at your disposal. Gather your forces. I'll be joining you momentarily by the borders of the capital."

"Ardeca is at your service, Sir." Phil gave him a low bow.

"What about me?" Tommy protested.

"You're in charge of protecting the people, and especially the farmlands. Our kingdom cannot afford to go hungry in these times."

"As you wish, Sir." The young duke grinned brightly.

"My Lord." Technoblade turned to Wilbur. "Take the girl"—he nodded his head in Liz's direction—"and find George. Make sure you bring him back to me _alive._ "

"Alive?" Wilbur's mouth quirked up in a sly smirk.

" _Alive,_ yes." Techno repeated. "We'll need him alive to get to the Moorlands. If all else fails, well." His voice dropped to a low growl. 

"I'll make sure he'll suffer greatly for the rest of his days."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone manages to point out how I got the names for the places, I'll be in awe.


	3. Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  _Finally,_ the reason I started working on this fic, at last! Quite a long chapter too, as an apology for making everyone wait so long aaaaa ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )
> 
> I like to think that everyone refers to their "god" differently. Hence the different terms ☆ I also took some creative liberties with some elements like the satyrion... I wasn't sure if people ate it or mixed it with drinks or something of the sort.
> 
>  **Smut warning!** Don't like, don't read!

"Dream, you really can't stay?"

"I'll be back again before you know it."

"I'll miss you terribly." George mumbled faintly, so quiet, that he wasn't even sure if Dream heard him.

He did, of course, his lips quirked up into a soft, tender smile. His hand was warm beneath his gloves as he took George's in his own, squeezing it comfortingly.

"One last trip to Wyktan," Dream murmured in return, "one last adventure, I promise. I just need to take care of some things, and I'll be back here in Founetter with you."

"And _then_ you'll take me with you on your adventures?" George gave him a wry smile.

"Of course," Dream chuckled, and George's heart nearly skipped a beat. "I promised you, didn't I? I don't break my promises, especially not the ones I made to my best friend."

"You once promised me a slice of marzipan," George snorted, trying to hide his flustered face. "You've yet to fulfill _that_ one."

"Oh, how could I forget?" Dream sighed dramatically. "The marzipan; truly, the most important, life-changing promise I've ever made." George's frown wavered and cracked into an ear-splitting grin, giggles bubbling from his throat. Dream was also grinning cheekily at him now, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll bring back some for you if you want."

George immediately sobered up, sighing. "Having you back in one piece will make me happier than receiving any sweet. There's so much marzipan in the world, but there's only one of you."

Dream's lips parted in a small gasp, and George's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait, Dream, I—"

"One last hug before I go?"

And George couldn't deny him, his arms already wide open. Any awkwardness he'd felt before quickly melted away when Dream finally held him tightly, his nostrils filling in with his scent, warm and comforting, like earthy petrichor and fresh ink.

He pretended he wasn't disappointed when Dream pulled away, leaving him cold and empty. He can't leave _yet._ He _has_ to stay a little longer.

"I'll see you soon, Georgie," Dream whispered quietly, turning towards the door.

"Dream I—!" George quickly stopped himself before he said anything he'd regret. "I-I'll see you, Dream. Take care, will you?"

Dream shot him a sunny smile, one that was reserved for him and him _only._ "I will, George. I promise."

He didn't know that would be the last time he'd see him for a long, _long_ time.

* * *

When George opened his eyes again, the sun was already low in the sky. He quickly figured out that he was on a moving, _galloping_ horse, a warm weight against his side. Riding a horse sideways was quite new to him, he thought, watching as the trees blurred past his line of vision.

It took a moment before panic settled in his chest.

Liz. The wedding. Techno.

_The attack._

George let out a scream, and the horse whinnied in fright.

"Whoa!" said the rider next to him, grabbing at the reins and petting the horse soothingly. "Easy girl, easy!" He brought the horse down to a slow trot, weaving in and out of the trees. "That's it, Claudia, easy does it."

George sat frozen in shock, the trauma of today's events mingling together with the bittersweet memories in his mind. The horse finally came to a stop, settling by a rudimentary campsite, with a tent of leather and the remains of a campfire not far from it.

George's captor hopped down from the beast, holding out a hand to him. "The man of the hour's finally awake," he said with a smirk. "Scared my poor horse half to death too."

George refused to budge, eyeing the other man with distrust. He'd said something about another king looking for him, didn't he? Why should he— _how_ could he trust this man?

"George," the man sighed, bringing down his hood and lifting up his mask. "It's me." His eyes were duller than he remembered, tired and weary but still somehow shimmering with hope. "Your best friend."

His throat closed up, heart clenching in his chest. Tears began to cloud his vision. George didn't move an inch even as Dream placed a tentative hand on his ( _warm, even beneath his leather gloves_ ), offering him a small smile ( _still as bright, as long as it was just reserved for him_ ).

"George...?" Dream started hesitantly, placing the mask back over his eyes and his nose. "I'm sorry we had to meet again this way."

"In a minute, I will wake up," George whispered hoarsely, "and I will find myself back in the palace. And you will be nothing more than a memory."

"George..." Dream's shoulders slumped down, his voice quivering with hurt. "I'm here. Like I promised you."

He wanted nothing more than to believe him, but the past year had been nothing but unkind to him, and now this... The Fates must've been feeling especially cruel today, weren't they?

"I'll let myself believe," George whispered, more to himself than to the man before him, "just this once." He made his way down to the ground, still holding his hand.

"George," Dream spoke softly, engulfing him in a strong, tight embrace. "George, I've missed you so _much._ "

Suddenly, he smells like he's _home_ again, enveloped in the scent of petrichor and ink, in a house where stacks of books detailing quests and stories galore ran up the walls and scattered across the floor.

George let out a tearful whimper, and Dream held him even tighter.

"Dream," he finally managed to say, shaky hands coming up to wrap around his back. "You're _alive..._ "

Dream laughed wetly on his shoulder, sniffling in relief. "I am, despite everything."

George cried into Dream's cloak again, squeezing his eyes shut as he relished the warmth of his friend, feeling him heave against him, breath hot against his neck (warm, breathing, _alive_ ). 

"I never thought I'd see you again," he wept. "News of the Siege reached our village... The collapsed mines, the bloody battles..." His fingers clenched around the drab, green fabric. "I... I thought you were dead..."

"Someone helped me," Dream replied, reaching up to grasp George's hair. "A Pyrokene. He helped me find my way back to you." He pulled himself away from George, cupping his face gently before resting his hands on his shoulders. "When I heard about what happened to Founetter, I... I thought I was too late. Especially when I heard about..." His mouth contorted into a sour grimace. "...About your impending marriage to that _bastard._ "

"He's ruined both of our lives then," George murmured weakly. "My family and your community. All because we were..."

"...halflings, yeah..." Dream sighed and began to speak again. "Sapnap and I caught wind that Invidel was already making plans to attack today, and we thought we could disguise ourselves among them. It took a lot of preparation, but I think we managed to pull it off."

"It worked," George said softly. "You've got me back." His heart then sank in his chest, eyes dawning in realization. "But... Invidel's after me then..." His face grew pale. "They... They want me now too. Fates above, will they ever give me time to breathe?"

"I won't let them get to you," Dream assured him. "Both Invidel _and_ Everial."

George watched idly as Dream tied Claudia's reins to a nearby tree, already missing the warmth of his touch. A low, rumbling feeling churned in his gut; not fear, no, maybe hunger? He did skip his breakfast after all, as well as what was supposed to be his wedding feast...

George groaned as the warmth suddenly spread from his belly down to the space between his thighs. He made an embarrassed squeak when Dream turned to him in alarm, seeing the arm wrapped around his middle.

"George?" Dream asked softly. "Are you alright?"

George nodded resolutely, the blush on his cheeks growing brighter as he felt himself growing harder. "I'm fine," he gritted out, "I-It's nothing, really."

"Let me see," Dream murmured, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You could've gotten hurt from the attack."

"No! No Dream, I'm fine—!"

George turned his head in embarrassment once Dream had managed to pry his arm away, the bulge against his silk pants visible for all to see. He heard Dream take in a soft breath, and it only made him even more mortified.

"D-Dream, I—"

"I suspected as much," Dream managed to say.

George's heart dropped in his chest. Was he really _that_ transparent with his feelings? "Huh...?"

"You smell like roses," Dream took another step closer, bringing George's hand to his nose, "...and _satyrion_." 

Satyrion... a plant with foul leaves but lovely flowers... a mere weed that also served as a powerful aphrodisiac. 

"It must've been in the oil," George murmured, eyes dawning in realization. Tendrils of dread mingled with his feelings of arousal when he considered what he could've— _would've_ —been doing tonight.

"Do you need my help, George?" Dream asked in a low whisper. His hand was still clasped around George's.

 _Dream could be his first._ A shiver of excitement ran through him. _Him and no one else._

_But it would be so mortifying, wouldn't it?_

He could feel Dream's hand slipping away.

"Wait!" George called out hoarsely. "I need you."

Dream blinked in surprise before he ushered George into the tent, kicking off their shoes as they entered. "Okay," he murmured back, cheeks red. "Okay, I'm here George, I'm here for you."

He laid George down on a sheepskin blanket, oiling an iron lantern for some light.

"I can..." George mumbled, conjuring a small flame between his fingers. Dream smiled above him as he successfully lit the lantern, pride in his eyes and what George hoped to be adoration.

George watched as Dream took off his gloves with his teeth, almost as if he was putting on a show for him. _Fates above,_ George felt like he was going to _die_ if Dream didn't touch him soon.

Dream's hands wandered over to his pants, tugging gently at the silk. "Going straight for the goods, I see," he mumbled in jest.

Dream let out a chuckle. "Would you rather I take my time?" he teased back, running a hand over George's clothed abdomen, eliciting a gasp from him.

"N-No," George huffed. Each touch felt like lightning against his skin, making the fire within him grow brighter and hungrier.

Dream's fingers moved to unclasp the lace capelet around him. Next came his pants, thrown haphazardly in the growing pile next to them. Then his linen underthings, and never had George felt so exposed before.

"Look at you," Dream murmured, fingers trailing up his red, leaking cock. "Already so hard in so little time." George let out a shy whimper. "I'll take care of you, Georgie, don't worry."

Dream's grip was firm, but not painful, and George threw his fist around his mouth to muffle his moans. His hips jerked with each tug Dream gave him, the other's hand slickened with his precum. 

"Move your legs up," Dream spoke, slowing his pace. "I want to sit closer."

George did as he was told, getting a bit more flustered as Dream sat between his legs, rubbing circles into his thigh as he started stroking faster. He could hear his own breath growing more ragged, back arching slightly off the pelt, teeth making deeper marks into his hand.

His little fantasy earlier in the tub paled in comparison to this. His imagination couldn't have predicted the little scars on Dream's hands, his calloused palms, his warmth, his _realness._ George isn't sure if he'd fully grasped the fact that Dream was alive and well before him, stroking his cock all because he asked him to.

He's never felt such love for someone before. He's never felt this _happy_ in a long time.

Dream planted a little kiss on his knee, and that was all it took before George finally came, seed spilling over himself, as well as Dream's hand.

"Good?" Dream asked softly as George came down from his high.

"Mmm-hmm," George nodded dazedly. The coiling feeling of arousal in his gut had abated slightly, but it was still there. It felt like a bit too much to ask Dream for anything more but—

"A-ah!" George suddenly felt something brush against his hole.

"S-Sorry!" Dream gasped, retracting his hand. "I was trying to clean you up—"

"N-No! It's fine!" George bit his lip as he stared at the bulge tenting through Dream's trousers. "It’s only fair I help you out too, Dream."

"I can manage."

"Dream..." George gathered the rest of his courage before his mind could convince him to back down. "I... I've prepared myself earlier."

"...Are you sure you want this?"

"I'm sure." He reached out a hand towards him. "I... I want you to be my first, Dream. I'd rather it be you than anyone else."

Dream leaned into his palm, his birch mask cold against his skin. Dream placed a kiss on his fingertips, warming him down to the bone. "Okay," he croaked. "I... George..."

"Touch me," George breathed, raising his hips up. "I need you, Dream."

"Just a minute," Dream chuckled hoarsely, removing his cloak and his tunic. George admired the broadness of his chest, and the freckles along his toned arms, until his eyes fell on the long scar against his side.

"Dream," he murmured, reaching out a hand again.

Dream seemed to notice where his eyes had landed, and forced out a little laugh. "In due time," he whispered while undoing his pants. "Let's focus on us first, okay?"

Any concerns George had before were quickly swept away when he saw Dream's cock for the first time; long and _thick_ and undeniably hard. He suppressed another shiver as he thought of it entering his hole, filling him up even more than he'd imagined. A haze of lust clouded his mind. _He_ did this? _He_ made Dream aroused enough? He couldn't help the little elated giggle that escaped him.

"You can always back out, if you want to," Dream said.

"Oh, I want this." George replied, propping himself up on his arms. "Do you...?"

"I do." Dream kissed him on the forehead. George wished he'd kiss his lips too. "Let's get you out of that coat, Georgie. We'd make a mess of it."

George noticed Dream watching his hands as he removed each button down the garment, the bejeweled monstrosity that exposed him far more than he liked. Then again, it must've made him a little more appealing to Dream, with that neckline showing off a part of his pale chest. When he finally slipped it off his shoulders, Dream thumbed over his lips.

"Gorgeous," he murmured.

"Kiss me," George begged. " _Please._ "

When Dream finally did, everything felt right again. George felt like he was going to lose his mind. His soft, warm lips were like a gulp of fresh water, quenching his dry throat. Dream's hands carded through his hair, letting the wilted gardenias woven there fall down to the sheepskin.

"Ethereal," Dream whispered against his lips. "I don't deserve you, George."

"Take me, Dream," George whimpered, jerking his hips against Dream's. "Please, I beg of you."

Dream laid him down again carefully, slipping two fingers inside his precum-slicked entrance. George's preparations paid off in the end, as he got to see Dream's pleasantly surprised reaction at the sensation.

"Dreammm," George whined impatiently. "Hurry."

"Hush, love," Dream replied, pulling back to line himself up. "I've got you, George."

George bit back a yelp as Dream thrusted in, the thick head already inside his little hole. Dream kept his hands on his hips, looking at him worriedly as he pushed forward.

"I'm okay," George assured him, bringing his feet around to hook behind Dream's thighs. "Please, Dream."

"Okay," Dream replied, going in further. George breathed out a moan, grasping at the pelt below him. "You're doing so well, George. You feel so good around me."

"Dream," George practically sobbed in relief, whispering his name like a prayer as Dream's balls came flush with his ass, the grip against his hips quite _hard._

"George, are you alright?" Dream asked again, brushing the hair out of George's eyes. The motion felt so _tender_ that George very nearly bawled in response.

"Move?" he asked instead, jerking his hips. Dream obeyed, pulling out halfway before ramming back in. "D-Dream!!!"

"I'm here, Georgie," Dream replied, burying his face into George's neck. George distantly wondered whether Dream would mark him up or not—his cock twitched in anticipation. "Fuck, you feel so _tight._ You're enjoying this too, aren't you?"

"Yesss," George hissed in pleasure, his fingers tugging harshly onto Dream's hair as he brushed against a spot that made him see stars. "D-Do that again, fuck, please—"

Dream's hips were moving at a steady rhythm now, thrusting in and out of George's wet heat with an intense ferocity. He could see George's chest heaving as he panted out prettily, saying his name with a breathy moan that made his heart clench fiercely in his chest.

"You're so beautiful," he rasped, "can't believe no one's ever had the gall to court you... they—missed—out—" Dream thrusted with each pause, making sure to brush against that spot again.

"Dream, Dream, ahh—" George shivered, his cock red and twitching. "I can't—"

Dream pulled him in for another kiss as he grunted, filling George up with his cum. George came not too long after, saliva dribbling down his chin and connecting their mouths as Dream pulled back, admiring his face.

"I've missed you," Dream whispered, cupping George's cheek in one hand, resting their foreheads together.

"I missed you too," George murmured shakily, unable to hold back his tears.

"My best friend," Dream said softly, kissing the tip of George's nose this time. "I waited so long to see you again, I..."

Had George been more awake, he would've bristled at the thought of them simply remaining as friends even after what they've done.

But alas, he was _tired,_ from the day's excitement and from the mindblowing sex he just had. He was content to simply lay on the pelt, warm in his friend's arms, blissfully ignorant to whatever was happening.

* * *

Dream sighed as he watched George's eyes close again, his breathing even with each heave of his chest. It was fine, George deserved the break.

He deserved the world.

Dream kissed him on the forehead again before moving to clean the spunk all over George's ass and his stomach with a clean rag in his satchel. It was one of those that he used to deal with his injuries, so he was sure that it would be good enough for George.

He placed the remains of George's wedding suit in his satchel once he'd finished. Seeing it in all its glory sent a pang through his chest again—George almost got married today. He almost lost George to a monster—almost gave him a fate worse than death. Dream turned to look at George again, who was sleeping peacefully, his face free from worry. His heart ached again; George deserved so much better—not Technoblade, and definitely not him. He could sell the suit to a village tomorrow (those jewels would especially fetch a handsome price) and give George the money.

The sound of hooves approaching snapped him out of his reverie. He'd managed to put his pants on and draped a cloak over George before the tent opened, and his friend's concerned face poked through.

"Sapnap," Dream began, hating how his voice shook. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Sapnap hissed back. "Aren't you supposed to be heading towards Eppelage?"

"I _am!_ " Dream protested. "I just—"

Sapnap's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the figure sleeping on the pelt. "Is that the Dragonborn?!" he whispered harshly. "Dream, why is he _naked?!_ "—and with another look at him—"Why are _you_ naked?!"

"Sapnap I can explain—"

Sapnap pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "I wish you made sure you were safe first instead of thinking with your dick."

"I was _not_ thinking with my dick." Sapnap shot Dream a look. "...Okay _fine,_ maybe I was." Pink tinged his cheeks as he carefully roused George up from his sleep, letting him change into one of his spare sets of clothing. _It would help him blend in better,_ he reasoned, and it wasn't just because of the fact that George wearing _his_ clothes sent a warm feeling in his stomach. Sapnap gave them some privacy outside, which Dream was grateful for.

"Where are we going?" George yawned.

"To Eppelage," Dream replied fondly. "Can you walk?"

"I'm tired."

"I'll carry you." Dream slipped an arm under his legs and around his shoulders, carrying him outside onto Claudia. He returned to the tent to pack up his meager belongings and headed back with Sapnap.

"What are you planning to do now?" Sapnap asked as he mounted his own horse. "If Invidel finds out about what two halflings had done with their mercenaries, we're done for."

"I've got Invidel handled," Dream replied coolly, donning his mask and his cloak again.

Sapnap frowned. "We can't hide in Eppelage forever. Not while George is still wanted, by _two_ kings, no less."

"I've got it handled," Dream repeated, gritting his teeth. "They'll go through me first before they get George."

Something flickered over Sapnap's eyes. "Sure. For how long?"

Dream ignored him as they continued on the road to Eppelage. They'd find somewhere to settle in there, he's sure of it, live different lives and make sure nobody would hurt them again, not Everial, not Invidel, _not anyone._

"Who goes there?"

"Dream!" Sapnap's voice resounded beside him, snapping him out of his fantasies.

Dream's heart sank in his chest as he saw the two knights at the end of the road. There was nowhere else for them to run—they've already been seen, and there was no way Dream would be risking George's life for this. His blood ran cold as the turquoise trim of the armor stood out against the darkness.

"Halt!" said one of the knights. "The Red Duke wishes to see you."

Left with nowhere else to turn, they had no choice but to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the waterworks flow. I only realized I've been focusing too much on Dream's hands in the middle of writing this fml.
> 
> Please tell me if I need to warn for anything else.


	4. The Red Duke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> A little late, and a little short! Quite out of character, but he gets better, I swear. Also beware sudden POV changes! We like to use a little 3rd person omniscient here ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

There was a little camp a few ways from the road, a fire roaring in the center of it all. Dream would've missed it in the trees were it not for the clanking of the armored men, and of course, the knights who were sent after them. He could feel Sapnap's stare burning through the back of his head even with the mask covering part of his face. As they rode deeper into the camp, he could see the remaining mercenaries glaring daggers at them, green cloaks and birch masks stained with blood and ash.

Dream almost felt sorry for using them in his rescue mission, but the feeling of having George in his arms again cleared away any guilt he might've had.

They came upon a tent of heavy linen, dyed in a deep, dark red. Outside of it hung a banner displaying a familiar coat of arms, sending a twinge of fear through his cold facade.

One of the other soldiers dashed into the tent, and the two that brought them there sent them inside, blades pointed at their backs as they tied their hands behind them with metal chains. George looked at Dream fearfully, remembering his shameful walk down the aisle. Dream tried to give him a comforting glance, but before he knew it, they were already being unceremoniously brought down to their knees as though they were kneeling to pray.

For all that George had heard about him, the Duke of Montessy didn't look at all that formidable; clad in what he assumed to be black and scarlet, rather than the daunting teals of Invidel, but still bearing its crest on his chest. He gazed upon the three captives, green eyes gleaming behind a pair of spectacles.

"You," he spoke suddenly, a hint of surprise in his tone. "I never thought I'd run into _you_ again; not like this, at least."

"Duke BadBoyHalo," Dream replied smoothly. "I see those bandits left you alone, in the end."

"Thanks to you." Bad tutted. "Such a shame that you're the one robbing others now, isn't it? You've left two of my men helpless in enemy territory; now they're asking for a bigger sum as compensation." He tilted his head, as though mocking them. "Give me a reason as to why I shouldn't simply hand you over to them."

"You owe me a favor," Dream argued, ignoring the cold steel barely touching the back of his neck. "If it weren't for me, you would've died that day with those bandits."

George watched Bad suddenly tense, his eyes roaming around the room before his shoulders slumped downwards. "I know," he replied.

"I'm asking you to let us go."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Dream." Bad's gaze turned towards George. He couldn't help but feel intimidated. "My orders are to bring the Dragonborn safely to Invidel. Not even an oath I made can break that."

"I know your secrets, _Your Grace,_ " Dream hissed, frustration seeping through his tone. The guards held their weapons warily, waiting for Dream to strike. "It would be _such_ a terrible _shame_ if anything were to... slip out."

Bad suddenly blanched. "You can't mean that."

"Let us go, and I'll keep my mouth shut."

"This insolent fool would be better off _dead!_ " One of the guards snarled, tightening his hold around the hilt. "Say the word, Your Grace, and his head will roll onto the ground."

"NO!" George cried before he could stop himself. 

"George?" Dream turned to face him, eyes wide.

"Spare him, please," George continued through gritted teeth. "It's me you want, isn't it? Let them both go."

"You're correct," Bad said with a smile, placing a hand on George's shoulder. Dream bristled at the gesture, but held his tongue. The duke then turned towards the other guards. "Leave us."

"But, Your Grace—!"

" _Leave us._ " Bad's eyes narrowed in annoyance. The guards left with nary a protest, leaving the four of them alone in the tent; quiet, tense.

"Get your hands off of him," Dream growled. A tiny part of George felt a little pleased with his protectiveness. He wasn't sure whether the duke would particularly care for his threats, but a weight was suddenly lifted off of his shoulder. He let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

"You can try and kill me, Dream, but my soldiers are just waiting outside." Bad's simpering smile got on George's nerves, looking as though he was _pitying_ them. The duke turned towards George, bending down slightly to look him in the eye. "So, this is the infamous Dragonborn that Everial's been hiding away." George watched as Bad peered curiously at him, his skin prickling uncomfortably at the attention. "Strange, I thought you'd be a bit more dressed for the occasion, sir."

"I-I'm not—" The words died in George's mouth. He hung his head instead, trembling. "Please just... let them go." What use was it to argue against one of Invidel's nobles?

Dream, of course, _would_ find the merit in arguing. "None of us are leaving without the others," he said firmly. "It's all or nothing."

"Dream," the third captive started softly. George assumed he was Sapnap, or whatever name Dream had told him before.

"Everyone knows I have the Dragonborn— _George,_ pardon me." Bad said dismissively. "They will surely kill you if you try to escape with him."

"So you're expecting us to give him up?" Dream barked out a laugh. "Just like that?"

"I'm giving you a _chance,_ " Bad corrected him, steepling his fingers. "Consider this my payment for saving my life. Your favor, surely."

"What is it?" Sapnap asked, distrust lacing his words.

"A quest," Bad replied. "Seven days to travel to the Moorlands and find a solution to the Great Decay. Otherwise, Invidel will track you down and do it ourselves."

"That's not fair!" George blurted out. "Nobody has managed to come up with one; how do you expect _us_ to do such a thing?"

"Patience." Bad shot him a look. "There is a portal in the heart of the Moors, to a place where all halflings were said to have come from. There lies the source of the rot, the Great Decay; a force so terrible it drove out almost everyone who had lived there. Killing this force may restore order in our side of things."

"We know the stories," Dream snapped. "The Wither is nothing more than a myth."

"How do you know that?" Bad countered. "You've never even gone there, have you?"

"I think it's ridiculous that we're risking our lives for a mere legend."

"Then you would rather risk your lives to the blades of mercenaries?" Bad scoffed. "I'll be taking George then, and go to the Moors ourselves."

Dream took a deep, furious breath. " _Fine._ Suppose we accept the terms of your deal anyway. How would you track us then?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"You should! You should!" Dream argued. Sapnap backed him up. George could do nothing but watch helplessly, his mind swimming again in fear and distress.

_This was the price of his happiness... The brief respite he'd had before; all crumbling down into nothing but misery._

"Enough!" Bad shouted, waving his hand with a flourish. Suddenly, a red ring of light appeared around George's neck, trailing up to the duke's right hand. Dream and Sapnap blanched next to him. 

"From now on, you'll leave a trail wherever you go." George felt the need to claw it off, even if he knew he most likely wouldn't be able to. "Only I will be able to see it, of course, unless I show it to everyone like this." Bad waved his hand again, making the light fade from view. "I'm the only one able to remove it too, so you'd best be certain that I'm making good on that seven-day promise."

"How could you even do something like this?" George murmured. The dizzying feeling surged up within him again. "You're not fully human too, are you?"

"Takes one to know one," Bad quipped.

"A Redector," Dream whispered begrudgingly. "I didn't think it was true."

Bad smiled beatifically, doing a mocking bow. "Charmed, I'm sure. Nobody will believe you, you know."

"Does _he_ know?" Dream asked through gritted teeth.

The smile vanished from Bad's face. "Of course," he says, a bit too coldly. He then called out for his guards, whom he asked to remove their bindings. "Be off with you. Your time starts an hour from now. Hopefully, that would suffice."

Bad watched as they hurriedly mounted their horses, riding off into the night, much to the confusion of the other knights.

"I don't understand," said one, mouth agape. "Shouldn't we be taking them to Invidel?"

"Change of plans," Bad replied confidently. "We might be able to finish things a bit earlier than expected."

* * *

The wind whipped past their faces as they rode past the gnarled trees. George shivered against Dream's back, tightening his hold around his waist. Sapnap had discarded his stolen cloak and his mask somewhere along the road. George wished he'd given them to him instead, the chill nipping at his nose.

"What secrets did you have against him, Dream?" Sapnap asked.

"Nothing half the kingdom doesn't already suspect," Dream sighed. "Him being a Redector would've been the worst of it yet."

"That's all?" George asked.

"He's also the King's bed warmer."

"Ha!" Sapnap chortled. "Knew it."

"Explains the title then," George huffed half-heartedly.

Dream and Sapnap laughed beside him, their voices carrying through the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly believe that Bad's smarter than he lets on, and he'd do anything if it's for the good of his kingdom.
> 
> Every place is a little reference! And so are Bad's abilities heehee~
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated! ♡


	5. Raided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> I'm a sucker for being taken care of (.///.) So let me just ✧･ﾟ:*project*:･ﾟ✧  
> I kinda feel like I cut the last chapter weirdly, so have this extra long chapter lol
> 
> **Warning for a slight instance of harrassment.**

George sorely regretted not eating breakfast that morning. His stomach was growling pitifully at him, begging him for lunch _and_ dinner too, as if it never experienced starvation in Everial's dungeons, as if it never rebelled against the cold gruel he'd been forced to eat, as if it never experienced anything grander than spiced potatoes for the past few months.

Dream must've sensed his distress, since a warm hand was suddenly on his arm, giving it a gentle, comforting squeeze.

"I'm hungry," George mumbled, resting his cheek against Dream's clothed back. "I need food."

"Hang on, George," he said soothingly, a sharp contrast to the snarky roughness he'd shown the Red Duke earlier. "We'll get to a village in no time."

"Over there," Sapnap called, jerking his head towards a faint, trailing pillar of smoke. "A village."

The moon was already high in the sky by the time they got there, their horses slowing to a steady crawl as they tried to cause as less of a ruckus than they needed to. Dream led them over to an inn, a cozy-looking thing with two storeys and a stable to boot.

They dismounted their horses and approached the innkeeper, asking for lodging for two nights, at the most. He looked them up and down and scoffed.

"There is no more room for one, let alone three," he said, a bit icily. "I suggest you look for another place to stay."

"Would this be able to convince you otherwise?" Dream asked, rifling through his satchel and holding out something green towards the man.

The innkeeper's eyes shone in the moonlight, and easily accepted whatever it was that Dream offered him—an emerald, from the looks of it. "Two more of these, and I'll give you the best room in the house," he grumbled.

Dream glanced at his companions before handing him another. "I've no more than two."

"Fair enough," the innkeeper chortled. "A room for three, for two nights at most."

The smell of beer and hot, steaming food filled George's nose once they entered the inn, the sound of clinking glass and joyful chatter a welcome sound for his weary ears. His stomach rumbled again at the sight of food, and he let out a quiet whine.

"Do you need anything, George?" Dream asked softly.

"I'm so hungry," he mumbled back, "and so tired. I don't know which one I'd rather deal with first."

"I'm not letting you sleep on an empty stomach."

"You two go on ahead," Sapnap called out, clearing his throat. "I'll bring our supplies to our room." He gave Dream a lazy salute before following after the innkeeper, leaving the two alone in the dining hall.

"New guests?" said a jovial-looking man, emerging from one door with a pot of something savory. "Take a seat, lads! Dinner is served."

They took a seat at a table located a little ways to the back, quite far from the rowdy ones, a little isolated but they didn't really mind. George licked his lips eagerly upon seeing the steaming bowl of pottage pushed underneath his nose. His hand trembled slightly as he drew the spoon to his mouth, and finally tasted his first meal of the day.

"You okay?" Dream's head turned slightly to face him, one hand resting on the small of his back.

"Just peachy," George replied, scooting over to press his shoulder against Dream's side, soaking in his warmth. "A little cold."

"Our room could be a little warmer." Dream replied with a light chuckle. "If not, we've always got Sapnap's fire"—and with a little hesitation—"and yours, for that matter."

"I'm still not good enough," George mumbled, taking another sip of the stew. "I need more practice."

"You're good just the way you are," Dream replied, a hint of pride in his tone.

George wanted to protest, but his head felt too heavy; he settled for finishing his stew, Dream's hand moving up to stroke his back comfortingly. 

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over them, and George almost jumped in his seat when a tankard of something sweet-smelling was suddenly slammed in front of him. Sapnap sat down at the seat in front of them, laughing brusquely. "Sorry," he said. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing much," Dream replied, handing Sapnap his bowl. He reached for his tankard, giving it a tentative sip. "I can't believe you remembered," he said with a faint smile.

"You don't like ale, yeah?" Sapnap's grin felt a little more genuine. "I've got you some mead instead." He jerked his head towards George. "Is he okay?"

"Tired," Dream said softly, wrapping an arm around the hazy boy. "Not that I can blame him, though."

Sapnap's grin dimmed slightly. "Well, we've got three beds in our room. We can go straight to sleep after dinner."

"I'd like that," George murmured against his spoon.

After they'd finished their meager meal, Sapnap led them down another hall of chambers, stopping at a nondescript wooden door. The room wasn't anything grand or unusual, but to George it might as well have been. He immediately shucked off his shoes and flopped down on the nearest bed, the linen sheets and the woolen blanket much more welcoming than his little room in the palace.

"Good night George," he heard Dream say, ruffling his hair slightly as he groaned into the pillow. With that, he let himself slip away into slumber, into what might as well have been the best sleep he'd had in ages.

* * *

George squinted against the bright lights over his eyes before he finally awoke, blinking slowly and forcing himself to sit up on the bed. He winced as his legs protested against him, the sudden soreness between his thighs causing him to grow a bit more alert.

_Right. Yesterday, they... He and Dream had... And he..._

George's cheeks flushed brightly at the memory. He'd only found out that Dream was still alive then, and the first thing he did was to beg for his cock—although the satyrion was partially to blame. Oh _Fates above,_ the mortification was settling in _hard._ Phantom touches were suddenly crawling over his skin, caressing his cheeks and gripping his hips. George's fingers moved to his lips, remembering the kisses Dream left on his skin.

He vaguely wondered if this meant that Dream loved him back.

Or perhaps he believed he was only helping him out, and Dream had only obliged him in the heat of the moment.

George turned towards the remaining two beds, seeing nothing but rumpled sheets and supplies stowed away in the corner. He was about to get up and look around for the two when the door suddenly opened.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

In walked Dream and Sapnap, the latter's arm curled around the other's, the former wheezing infectiously at something Sapnap said. George tried to hide the disappointment in his face; surely the two had grown closer in the past year. Sapnap had been there when he couldn't be—saved him from the bloody _Siege,_ even—and it was only fair that Dream wouldn't see him as anything more than an old friend.

His stomach churned, but not so much from hunger this time.

"George!" Dream exclaimed upon seeing him, unlatching himself from Sapnap's side. "You're up."

George smiled slightly. "We'll probably have to leave as soon as possible." His hand moved down to his neck as he frowned, remembering the ring of light that BadBoyHalo had conjured upon him. "We've only got a week, after all."

"We'll need some supplies." Dream's face took on a sheepish grin, the rosy tint to his cheeks hidden mostly under the mask. "I... may have taken the liberty of selling your wedding suit for some gold. I hope you can forgive me—I didn't think you'd want it back so—"

"Dream." George watched with slight amusement as Dream rifled through his satchel for something. "It's alright. I never wanted to see that blasted thing again, anyway."

Dream handed him a small, heavy pouch filled to the brim with gold coins. "Your share," he explained. "I figured that you should have the bigger part. Since... since it was yours, after all. And you'd probably need some money after we finish the quest."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," George replied softly, weighing the pouch in one hand. "So... supplies?"

"Yeah," Sapnap interrupted, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "We'll need some food for the road, and probably a weapon for you... unless, of course, you can defend yourself easily?"

George chuckled awkwardly. "I... I'm good with an axe. My flames aren't as bright or strong as everyone else's."

"That's fine." Sapnap patted him twice on the shoulder, his voice lowering down to a faint whisper. "We probably shouldn't expose ourselves around civilians either way. There's no telling how they'd react to a halfling."

"Right."

"Sapnap, by the way." The dark-haired man held out a hand. "I don't think we've been properly introduced yet, considering our uh... situation."

"George," he replied, shaking his hand. His palms were a bit cold, which surprised him—Sapnap was a fire-user, wasn't he?

"So, shall we go to the market?" Dream asked, holding out his arm for George.

He took it, blushing slightly. "We shall."

* * *

The markets were a busy place, traders both local and foreign shouting at the top of their lungs to sell their wares. George twirled the axe around with a small smile, admiring the way the light glinted off the steel, before he secured it onto his back. He missed the familiar grip of a weapon in his hands, the feeling of being able to protect himself.

"We make a fetching pair, don't we?" Dream laughed, punching his shoulder lightly. He'd also gotten himself a bow, smooth and curved, and a quiver of arrows slung behind his back. George rolled his eyes at the action, trying not to think about the implications of Dream's words. There's no need to hurt himself any further, after all.

"Like true adventurers," he replied instead. Dream's expression grew strangely soft, a small smile teasing the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah. Exactly."

"Look!" Sapnap ran over to them, catching his breath. "This could be helpful, right?" He thrusted a roll of parchment towards Dream—a map, it seemed like.

Dream nodded, taking it from him. "We'll take a look at this back at the inn. For now, we should probably—"

An ominous horn sounded out in the distance.

The village bell rang out from the tower in the village square, causing many of the people to disperse back into the safety of their homes. Dream, George, and Sapnap retreated behind one of the stalls, as the inn was too far from the market. Some have taken up arms, blades and blunted instruments alike, as a group of armored rogues approached, some of them riding atop large, horned beasts they've called Ravagers.

Pillagers, from the looks of them.

"Get out of our town," said one brave bystander. George distantly remembered him as one of the inn's owners.

"We mean no harm," said the captain, wearing their banner behind his back like a tattered cape. "All we ask is for the rotten ilk in your village to step forward. That is all."

"You've taken so much from us last year," whimpered another. "There is nobody left. Leave us be."

"We've tried asking nicely." The captain frowned. "You simple-minded folk never learn, do you?" With that, he held up his hand, and the group behind him spread out, into homes and down the streets, to the sound of bloody screams and crashing objects. He himself had a crossbow in his arms, loaded and ready. "Leave no stone unturned! Harm nobody, unless they resist! We will cleanse Pickettfield once again! Leave no more room for the Great Decay to thrive!"

"What do we do?" George whispered harshly. They didn't need to get mixed up into this; maybe they'd tell him to go back to the inn and leave town as soon as they can.

"We fight as much as we can," Sapnap said. "These people have been suffering at their hands for so long."

"As _long_ as we can," Dream interjected. "We don't have to sacrifice ourselves for this town, but we'll get over this faster if we help."

"But the deal!" George argued. "We shouldn't stay here for very long! Shouldn't we leave, then?"

"George, we can't keep running and hiding like you've done before." George made an indignant noise at Sapnap's brash statement. "You said you needed the practice, yeah? Well _here's_ your practice."

"You can keep yourself safe at the inn, if you'd like," Dream replied, handing him the map. "You've got your axe. I— _We_ trust in you, George. Take care."

With that, Dream and Sapnap ran off to join the battle, weaving through the flying arrows and the swinging battle axes. George hated himself for reverting back to his instincts, back to _running and hiding_ —but at that moment, it was all he could do, and he didn't trust himself enough to be able to catch up to them.

Dream, with his spotless aim, aided by his Ender Eye, which allowed him to focus better on his targets, sometimes letting him see through far enough ranges until he got migraines. There was his ability to teleport too, but George wasn't sure if he'd risk it in front of so many people. Clearly, they'd be no match for his arrows and his stealth, especially as an Ender.

Sapnap was a Pyrokene, if he remembered right. A fire-user, a pyrokinetic; if he managed to set Everial's castle on fire, it would mean that he had a very good grasp on his abilities, much more than George ever did. He wasn't too sure about Sapnap's choice of weapons, but he'd heard that some of them could manipulate parts of their bodies into golden blades.

He'd just be a burden, really. Colorblind, with fire that's only good for lighting lanterns. Going to the inn would be his best bet—

A hand tugged on his arm, and George was abruptly ripped away from his thoughts. The menacing grin of the pillager captain met his eyes, and there was a sudden hand around him as he was dragged to an alleyway. George's eyes widened as he struggled to get out of the other's grip, hand itching to grasp the handle of his axe.

"What have we here?" The captain said smugly, snatching the map away from George's grasp. "Pretty thing like you all alone in these streets."

"Let go of me!" George cried, panic rising in his chest.

"Oh, I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon." The man's breath was hot and foul against his cheek, and his hand was now trailing dangerously down his back. George kneed him right where it hurt, causing him to release him and yell in pain.

George was more surprised to see the bright trail of purple flame dancing down the captain's tattered cape, past his clothed arm, and across his gaunt face. He barely had time to shout a horrified "Hal—!" before George silenced him with a swing of his axe, blood splattering onto the wall behind him. He quickly grabbed the map from him before it got scorched and stomped out the flames as best as he could before anyone else saw.

_Did he do that? That was such a strong flame, so how did he—?_

"George!"

He whirled around in terror to see Dream and Sapnap looking at him in shock.

"George, are you okay?" Dream asked, rushing over to him and looking him over for any injuries. "Did he hurt you?"

"What in the _hell_ were you thinking?!" Sapnap all but shouted, eyes wide and ablaze in righteous anger as he doused the rest of the flames. "We're in enough trouble as it is. Lighting that man on fire in proximity of his _whole army—_ "

"Sapnap, it was self-defense!" Dream hissed.

"I didn't—I didn't know I was capable of doing something like that…" George stared solemnly at his trembling hands. "My flames were usually so... weak. I never expected that to happen."

"Maybe Sapnap could train you," Dream said softly, squeezing his hands, "as a fire-user."

"We've got so little time," Sapnap replied with a grimace, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Besides, the way Pyrokenes and Dragonborns could use their fire might not even be the same."

"It's fine, Dream," George sighed. "I'm quite good with an axe. I don't need my stupid fire powers." He carefully pulled his hands away from Dream's, afraid that he would accidentally set him on fire too.

"Let's just go to the inn," Dream mumbled, pressing two fingers close to his temple. "The other pillagers haven't gotten there yet; I'm sure the villagers can handle them just fine."

They ran back to the inn as fast as their legs could carry them, a little unnerved at how quiet it was now compared to the uproarious laughter they'd heard from last night. Dream locked the door behind them as Sapnap unfurled the map, looking through the regions.

"Bad didn't even give us instructions on how to find the Moors," Sapnap grumbled. "It could literally be any one of these islands."

"No, no," George said suddenly, a memory returning to him. "There's always been a riddle to it, right? _In the heart of the reddened seas lies an island full of secrecy..._ " He turned to Dream for confirmation.

" _Through the driest coasts and the woods of stone,_ " Dream continued, eyes brightening in recognition. " _A land which many once called home..._ "

" _The source of all with skills arcane; the Moorlands, this realm was named,_ " George finished.

"I've never heard of that riddle before," Sapnap said, a bit confused. "Where did you hear that?"

"It-It's in one of my old books!" Dream gasped, stumbling over his words in excitement. "In our library!" He turned to George with a sunny grin. "I can't believe you still remembered that!"

"I was helping you research it for many nights, you know," George said lightheartedly. "It's not like I can forget about it _that_ easily."

"Okay, okay, but what does that _mean?_ " Sapnap's brows furrowed. " _'An island full of secrecy'_...? That still could be any of these."

"Well, it did say something about _'reddened seas'_ , so maybe we can start on that." George pored over the map before pointing down at an area. "Aha! See? The Ceriseule ocean!"

"That narrows it down to three islands," Dream said, scanning over the parchment as well. " _'Driest coasts and woods of stone'_... I can't think of anything right now."

"This one might be it," Sapnap pointed at a stretch of land closest to one island. "This city's close to a desert, but it's also on the coastline."

"Yeah, that works out," George agreed. "It's also connected to the Staunhill Wood... _'woods of stone'_ , right?"

"We... We're pretty close to it now too," Dream murmured. "Interesting... We could probably travel through the Wood in two to three days, reach Cacitine in one, cross the ocean in two, maybe...? That's _interesting..._ "

"The Duke's cutting it close with that seven-day deadline," Sapnap hummed, a bit suspicious.

"Well, either way, we've found the Moorlands." Dream reached around to clasp George on the shoulder. "And we couldn't have done it without you, George."

A swell of pride rushed through him, and he couldn't help but smile back. "I try," he replied. "It was nothing, really..."

Dream opened his mouth to speak when a loud rapping suddenly sounded at their door, followed by harsh voices.

"The pillagers," George gasped. 

Sapnap got his gear and turned towards the window. "Down here, quickly!" he whispered loudly, hopping out and reaching the ground safely. Dream and George rushed after him, and they quickly made their way to the stables, where surprisingly, no one was waiting for them. Dream and Sapnap quickly mounted their horses, George riding alongside Dream, and soon they were off, headed towards their first destination: Staunhill Wood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're off on their quest! I liked making the little riddle hehe rhymes are cool.  
> Let me know what you thought about this chapter in the comments below! Kudos are also well-appreciated.


	6. Still Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Eeeeeee sorry for the even later update but it got a bit too difficult to steer the plot oops. On the bright side, I've finally figured out the ending! It's only a matter of connecting the plot points at this rate ε-(´・｀) ﾌ
> 
> EDIT: I can't set the date to September 6 even though it's already 2 AM here... will fix the date later ugh

"Is anyone following us?" Dream called out. 

George took a glance back, satisfied to see no trace of thundering boots or galloping horses after their trail. "No," he replied. "We've lost them."

"Reckon we could take a break here?" Sapnap asked, gesturing over to the wide stretch of river coming up their way. "It's almost noon, and I'm _starving._ "

"I don't see why not," Dream answered, slowing down Claudia's pace as they approached the riverbank. "We can also chart a better course this way, so we don't have to worry as much about that ridiculous time limit." He hopped down from his horse and secured her reins to the branches of an imposing chestnut tree, watching as Sapnap did the same before heading to the stream while George collected some firewood.

"Did you bring any food from the market?" George asked, setting up the kindling into a neat pile.

Dream sat down next to him, shaking his head. "Nothing substantial, but I've got something else for you." He opened up his satchel and handed George a small, wooden box, tied neatly with twine. Dream gave a nervous chuckle as the other inspected it in his hands. "I meant to give this to you earlier, but a lot had happened, and I didn't have enough time to, and..."

"Oh!" George opened the case, surprised to see a pair of spectacles resting inside. It was made of copper and bone, its lenses sporting a dark sheen over it. He glanced at Dream before gingerly putting it on, and an awed gasp immediately left his mouth. "What...?" He lifted it off before putting it on again, brows furrowed in confusion, but his lips slowly spread into a wobbly grin.

"Remember when I had to leave before?" Dream said softly, gazing fondly at him. "I had these made just for you... Did you know that the crystals in those lenses were pretty common in the Wyktan mines? Their facets had a strange effect on light, so I thought that maybe... you know..."

"Is this what you see all the time?" George asked, his eyes roving around the scenery, pointedly avoiding Dream. Everything was, for the lack of a better word, more _vibrant._ He could better discern the hues now, the greens from the yellows and the reds. The sky was a stark, clear blue, the leaves a crisp, fresh green. He could see Claudia in his peripheral vision, her chestnut coat much closer to the shade of the wood rather than the grass. "It's so... bright."

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it," Dream murmured, placing a hand on George's arm, startling him. "George, you don't have to change yourself for me, or anyone else, for that matter, but I thought you would appreciate it..."

George would accept whatever gift Dream gave him, but this might be the sweetest thing the man had ever done for him. He turned to look at him, and his jaw dropped.

Dream had lifted up his mask temporarily, hiding in between his hood and his hair—a pretty shade, almost like Claudia's, much lighter at the ends than at the roots. He could properly see his green eyes; one eye duller but flecked with golden brown, and the other one more piercing, almost glowing, the sclera a hue Dream once told him as teal.

"Like what you see?" Dream asked him lightly, huffing out a laugh.

"What if I do...?" George teased back, squashing down the horrified, flustered part of him that tried to stop him from making a fool of himself. Dream's shoulders shook with repressed giggles as a toothy grin made its way onto his face, his cheeks immediately growing rosier.

George decided that he liked the sight of Dream blushing very much, both with and without the glasses.

"Thank you, Dream," he said sincerely, placing a hand over the other man's. "You're always so kind to me."

"It's very hard not to be," Dream replied softly.

Now it was George's turn to feel his cheeks grow warmer.

"Hey, you two!" Sapnap called out, annoyed. "I didn't think I'd be catching our meal alone!"

"Coming!" Dream immediately called out, drawing himself back and punching George lightly on the shoulder. "Come on, George. Unless you're too afraid to catch some salmon yourself."

"I'll have you know that I used to catch my very own meals, thank you very much!" George retorted, trailing after Dream towards the stream.

"Oh?" Dream mused, grabbing a long, sharp stick to use as a spear. "In Founetter?"

"Yeah." He smiled wryly at the memory. "I used to be decent with a bow, so I managed to hunt down rabbits, if I'm lucky."

"And if you're not?" Sapnap asked.

"There's always the family garden." George shrugged. "But you can only eat so much beetroot before you grow tired of it. Dream used to offer me grouse, didn't you?"

"You know I'm a better shot than you," Dream laughed. "Hunting is _easy._ You used to complain a lot about your failed hunts, so I couldn't help but feel so _sorry_ for you—"

"You against me and Sapnap then!" George cried indignantly, brandishing his own spear in the air. "Most fish by the end of the day. Best hunter, my arse!"

"You've got a deal!" Dream laughed, a wheezy noise escaping his lips.

"No you don't!" Sapnap interjected, eyes switching between the two incredulously. "We'll take forever, and besides, I've already got a good lead."

"Yeah, Dream," George rolled his eyes despite the latter's shaky laughter. "Listen to Sapnap. So _childish,_ honestly."

"Oh, like you weren't the one who proposed it. You're such an idiot, George."

"Wait, shouldn't you stay away from water?" George asked warily as Dream stepped foot into the stream. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"It's _fine,_ " Dream replied, taking a stab at a fish. "I've built up some resistance to it. Besides, I've got my boots on. I'm going to be fine, George." He turned to see Sapnap loading his catch onto a hessian tarp laid on the riverbank, already bearing three or four salmon beforehand. "Gods, Sapnap, just how many do you need?"

"As much as we can get, obviously." Sapnap tossed another onto the growing pile. "We'll need to move fast, and we aren't sure if there's another stream up ahead for food. Didn't you have the map, Dream?"

Dream slapped his free hand against his forehead, groaning. "Fuck. You're right. I forgot that I was supposed to— _ugh._ "

"Sounds like you got distracted," Sapnap said with a knowing look.

"Oh, hush you." Dream slipped his mask back on, continuing with his task. "More food never hurt. I'll just do it later." A grin suddenly made its way on his face, as he raised his head to regard the curious Pyrokene. "How's the progress on your blades?"

"Now _you_ hush," Sapnap stuck his tongue out at him. "I can't do it in the water."

"Try it anyway!" Dream said eagerly.

"Blades?" George echoed.

Sapnap sighed and held up his right arm, taking a deep breath as liquid gold trailed down his forearm, his fingers lengthening as the limb curved and turned into a golden scythe, gleaming in the sunlight. He huffed out a heavy breath and wiped the sweat off his brow as it quickly turned back to normal.

"Hey, you held it a little longer," Dream said proudly. "I bet you'd be able to finally use it if you practice more."

Sapnap rolled his eyes. "You've told me that when we first met, too."

"You couldn't even become golden then." Dream's grin widened.

Sapnap flexed his fingers, mouth quirked up into a small smile. "I don't need to have a blade arm to catch fish anyway. Remember the jungles?"

George slowly tuned out the conversation as he tried to catch his own salmon, Dream and Sapnap locked in a riveting conversation about the baby pandas they've encountered on their travels. A tiny tendril of jealousy wrapped around his heart, squeezing it in warning. They've _clearly_ had fun on their adventures, the ones that he and Dream were meant to embark on together. _Never mind that,_ he thought sardonically to himself, _not when Dream has his shiny new partner to tend to._

He mentally slapped himself at once, horrified at the thought. Just because Dream stopped paying attention to him for _one_ second; it didn't give him the right to scoff at anyone who happened to be holding it at the time!

George grunted, spearing a fish straight through the middle. _Ha! Got it._ He tossed it into Sapnap's pile, a small sense of pride settling in his chest.

Dream laughed once more, and George faintly wished it was directed at him again.

"That should be enough, I think," he called out, grabbing their attention. "Two days of fish, enough for three meals each."

Sapnap nodded, tying up the tarp into a little pouch. "We should get to roasting then." He walked over to the fire pit George had set up, a little confused. "Where's the fire?"

"I must've forgotten!" George inhaled, eyes wide. In all the excitement of Dream's present, he'd forgotten to light the kindling, and in effect made himself look foolish in front of everyone. _Silly, silly George..._

"It's no big deal, I can handle it," Sapnap shrugged.

"Hold on!" Dream interrupted. "Let George do it."

"Why me?" George took a step back. "You know I can't—I can't—!"

"Think of it as training," Dream replied. "You can't rely on your axe forever, George."

Sapnap sighed. "I'll try to help you, if you want."

Dream looked even more excited by the prospect. "See? You can do it, George!"

"I'll try," George relented with a sigh, kneeling down next to their setup.

Sapnap sat down beside him. "Just concentrate on directing your air to your palms," he said. "Breathing helps."

"Air to your—?!" George felt silly as he tried to follow Sapnap's instructions. He'd never heard such a ridiculous notion.

...Liz had never advised him anything like that.

He tried anyway, taking a deep breath as he stared at his fingertips, waiting for a burst of purple flame to erupt from them. As expected, it was still a small, wavering, flickering flame, like that of candlelight, but at least it was a step up from the tiny, useless embers he used to produce. Huh. Maybe Sapnap's advice had some merit to it after all.

Then in a blink of an eye, it was quickly snuffed out again, leaving a tiny trail of gray smoke in its wake.

"This is ridiculous," he sighed, a little frustrated.

"You've improved some, George," Dream said, pleased. "It's fine! We can start small."

"Small is all I can do."

"That's not what I saw back at the village," Sapnap pointed out. "You lit someone on fire like it was nothing. That's no small feat."

George's stomach churned a bit. He didn't _mean_ to, and it's not as if the man was completely blameless in the ordeal, but he _killed_ him, he's a murderer—

Dream placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Hey now, it wasn't your fault," he said quietly. "You didn't know it would end like that. Once you gain more control of it, I'm sure you'll do great things with it."

His concern sent little butterflies through his stomach, but he couldn't help but watch morosely as Sapnap took over his duty, lighting the kindling with ease. Dream gutted and skewered three of the fish onto a stick, roasting it over the fire. George sighed and rotated the spit slowly, watching as the fish got cooked, and let his mind wander.

Dream had taken some of the soot from the fire, using it to chart their course onto the map. "There's a lake up ahead," he spoke. "If we could get there by nightfall, we could set up a camp there. It would be a little safer than out in a clearing; we'd have a little more protection from the mobs, at least."

"Yeah," Sapnap replied, tracing the path with his finger. "There's a few branching paths by the end here, but as long as we stay on the main road, we should be fine, right?"

"Yes. We should reach the end of the woods in two more days, at this rate."

George tried to take a peek of the map, but they were blocking his vision.

 _It's fine. It's all fine._ He wished he could contribute something, at least.

"We could eat while on horseback," Sapnap piped up. "So we can get to the lake faster."

"Fish?" Dream wheezed. "On _horseback?_ That's a disaster waiting to happen, you idiot."

"No, _listen,_ we can take out the bones beforehand. Trust me."

George stared at them as he continued rotating the spit. He noticed Sapnap's gaze lingering on Dream for a few seconds longer, and the uneasy feeling in his stomach grew tenfold.

* * *

It didn't disappear even while he and Dream were riding towards the lake, the sun setting low in the sky, gingerly holding onto the cooked piece of salmon in his hand. Sapnap's laughter rang carefree in the wind, in between bites of fish. He could see the clear blue surface of the lake then, surrounded by greenery (Goodness, _greenery!_ The sharp contrast was still so strange to him).

"Plenty of grass for the horses to graze on," Sapnap declared. He dismounted and started setting up another campfire as Dream prepared some tents for the night. George patted Claudia's neck gently, stroking her mane as he watched.

"Need some help?" he called out.

"I've got it covered," Sapnap replied.

"I'm almost done, anyway," Dream answered. Two leather tents now stood around Sapnap's campfire, one a little smaller than the other. "There. Shall we discuss sleeping arrangements?"

George's heartbeat picked up the pace. Maybe he should sacrifice himself, give Dream and Sapnap the alone time they _so_ clearly wanted, when the former had already beat him to it.

"I don't mind sleeping alone," the Ender said with a small shrug. "Besides, I might take up more space if I shared with someone else."

George tried to ignore the haze of disappointment welling in his chest.

"Guess that means I'm staying with you, Dragonborn," Sapnap said with a lax smile. "I hope you don't mind the snoring."

"Ha." George snorted. "I won't if you forget about the sleep-talking." He turned his gaze back over the lake, the sky above tinted a reddish-orange hue. Dream sat down next to him on the grass, nudging him gently with his shoulder.

"Your first sunset with those glasses," he said cheerfully. "How does it look?"

"A lot less yellow, I'd say," George replied lightly, his hand coming up to rest on his thigh. The jealous ache in his heart ebbed away as he felt Dream's bare hand resting on his own ( _Since when had he removed the gloves? The mere feeling of his skin against his should not rile him up so easily_ ). He dared to sneak a peek at Dream, his smile serene beneath the mask, and wondered if the man still loved sunsets as much as he did back then.

The moment was slightly broken as Sapnap sat down by Dream's other side, leaning onto him and subsequently pushing him against George. A lick of envy flared up in him, but Dream's hand squeezed his in turn, and he couldn't hold back a small, delighted smile.

They'd sat there for quite some time, until the sun had fully set and the night grew cold. Sapnap tended to the fire as they engaged in casual conversation, speaking of their childhoods ( _"In Fithusyne, it would be downright_ criminal _if you've never tried to burn_ something _down at least once," Sapnap had shared._ ) and their gripes about being halflings.

"Being able to teleport is amazing and all," Dream grumbled, "but it's not when you end up getting to the top of a tree just because mobs were following you."

"Why didn't you just teleport down?" Sapnap snickered.

"As if I'll glance at anything below me from that height!" Dream crossed his arms over his chest. "I had to get down a little lower first. It was then that I made up my mind to be a better archer."

Dream had told him this story so many times before, that he'd already taken it to heart. George smiled lazily, a yawn slipping from his lips.

"Sleepy?" Dream asked gently. He only nodded in reply, heading towards the bigger tent.

"I'm going to bed," he said. "Good night."

"Rest well," the two called after him.

* * *

But George didn't wake up well-rested at all. In fact, when he peeped outside the tent, the moon was still high in the sky. The campfire was nothing but wood and ash and soot now, smoldering embers long-since extinguished. Sapnap hadn't been joking about his snores, so it would take a while before he could sleep again.

Instead, he made his way towards the lake, slipping his bare feet into the cool water.

He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the sounds of the crickets surrounding them. Maybe here, he could forget his worries. In between his worry for the lives of not only himself but his associates, as well as the growing thorns of envy wrapped around his heart, it felt like he had no room to breathe. There was the matter of his sudden burst of power too...

As if on cue, a sharp flare shot out of his fingers, landing harmlessly into the middle of the lake. At least it won't harm anyone there...

"George?" Dream's voice was gravelly with sleep, his footsteps slow as he approached him. "You okay?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Sapnap?"

"Yeah." It was a half-truth anyway, and Dream seemed to accept it easily.

"C'mere," Dream said, wrapping an arm around George's shoulders. He easily scooted closer to his side, part of him hating how easily he caved in when it came to Dream, and the other not giving a single care in the world about it. "Penny for your thoughts?"

George desperately wanted to tell him to stop looking at anyone else, to be selfish and let out the feelings he'd been harboring for him for several years, but he knew he couldn't. The rejection would be too much to bear. Besides, who was he to tell Dream what or what not to do?

"I've missed you," he said simply.

"I've missed you too," Dream sighed, resting his cheek on top of George's head. "I was trying to get to you as fast as I could... to fetch you in Founetter."

"The life we planned together," George laughed wryly. "The adventures we would've— _should've_ —had together."

"We can still have that."

"Not if we're fugitives."

"Well..." Dream's thumb started stroking George's shoulder comfortingly. "We're on an adventure right now, aren't we?"

George let out a quiet giggle. "I suppose we are." He sighed, closing his eyes. "I've really, _really_ missed you, Dream."

"So do I." George felt a little squeeze on his shoulder.

"It's hard to believe that we've been apart for a year now..." he murmured. "So much has changed and I... I'm afraid that I don't know my best friend as well as I used to."

"Why don't you ask me anything? We've got time."

George's mind drifted again towards their spontaneous night of passion, but he stuffed it away for later. He racked his brains for a question until he got one, something simple enough. "What did you do in Wyktan?"

"I made my last trades," Dream replied. "The crystals for your lenses, and gold for our landlord. I was planning on staying in Founetter, or perhaps travel the lands with you"—George blushed at the notion—"so I bid my family farewell. Before I knew it, I was trapped in our house with them as the Siege started."

"I know the feeling," George said morosely. "When Technoblade attacked Founetter, I was with my siblings at the time. We had to hide and scavenge for scraps of food just to get by; they'd told me to run as they distracted the soldiers who were after us." _Running and hiding,_ like Sapnap had said. Bitter tears stung at the corners of his eyes. "I was always the weakest link; they could've had a better chance of surviving if I was the one who took their place..."

"But you would've _died,_ " Dream said, frowning. "I... I would've never seen you again."

"You would've survived anyway without me," George mumbled. "You've got Sapnap with you."

Dream opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again soon after. "It won't be the same." 

George felt Dream's hand underneath his chin, tilting his head up to face him. He blushed under his scrutinizing gaze, hoping that the moonlight wouldn't betray him. 

"I was... stubborn," Dream began slowly. George bit back a chuckle. "I wanted to see you as soon as possible, never mind the dangers Technoblade and his army were capable of." The hand under his chin moved towards George's wrist, and he directed his palm towards his side, where George knew that a long scar stood starkly against his skin.

"What happened?" George asked faintly, brows furrowed in concern.

"I got attacked, and Sapnap came to my rescue." Dream closed his eyes. "The blade had damaged my Pearl, so even though I wanted to teleport to your side, despite how drained I would be from the trip, I couldn't."

"So you can't...?" George gasped, drawing his hand back.

Dream shook his head. "I can! I can... It's just... more difficult. Remember how I used to teleport with boxes and boxes of books back in our library?"

"I remember."

"Well... the weight of two people alone now takes so much out of me," Dream smiled sadly. "Never mind the long distances."

"Oh, Dream..." George murmured, resting his forehead against his friend's chest. "You didn't... You shouldn't have risked your life like that. I don't deserve to have a friend as wonderful as you."

Dream wrapped his arms around George. "It's me who doesn't deserve you," he mumbled back. "Are... Are we? Still friends, I mean."

George bit his lip. Maybe he could be selfish for a little bit longer.

"Of course," he whispered sincerely. "Best friends."

"I'm glad." Dream held him tighter, fingers brushing through his hair as George slowly nodded off to sleep.

* * *

Dream watched as George's breathing evened out, his gentle exhales tickling his chest. He had feared that George would resent him for what transpired during the previous night, but it seemed that his fears were all for naught as the other had assured him that they were still the best of friends.

It had only been a matter of necessity. George just needed someone to relieve him due to the aphrodisiac, nothing more. And now George was still letting him hold him, not shying away from his touch, much to his relief. Perhaps he did not make a complete mess out of everything just yet.

But for now, George's rest (and his own) was more important, so he gently nudged his friend awake.

"George?" he whispered. "You have to go back to the tent."

The brunette stirred for a bit before falling back down into slumber. Shaking his head, Dream hooked his arms around George's back and under his knees, carrying him as if he were his bride towards the tents.

 _My bride,_ he almost laughed hopelessly to himself, _what a thought._

He barely let his mind linger on it as he gently laid George down on the furs.

"Good night, Georgie," he whispered, planting a small kiss onto his forehead before going back to his own tent.

The night was silent, save for the chirping crickets, and slowly, Dream lulled himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pyrokenes are based off Blazes! I thought it would be neat if they've got metal powers too, if only as a secondary element to fire.
> 
> Please tell me if I need to warn or tag for anything else!
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated ♡


	7. Ablaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> TW: Slight body horror (but to none of the main characters)
> 
> Dawn of the second day! Time to sprinkle in a little more conflict ( Ò ∇ Ó)✧ I also added another tag~ Extra long chapter for you, loves!

Dream woke up in his tent to the smell of smoke and cooked meat. _One of the others must be up already,_ he thought to himself. He made his way to the campfire, newly rekindled, a slain boar roasting on the spit. As expected, Sapnap was tending to it, brows knitted together, seemingly lost in thought. George _did_ sleep quite late last night, so it wasn't really much of a surprise to see the Pyrokene sitting there. Besides, he knew how much George seemed to underestimate himself, as much as he hated it.

"You're up early," Dream said with a smirk, causing the other man to jolt in alarm.

"Yeah," Sapnap replied halfheartedly.

Dream nodded slowly at the curt reply. "Did you hunt that down yourself?"

"Yep."

"...With your blades?" Dream gestured over to the other's right arm, which was speckled with blood. The latter hummed nonchalantly, much to his frustration. He groaned, taking a seat next to him. The other doesn't move at all, aside from rotating the spit. "Okay, Sapnap. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

" _Right,_ " Dream scoffed, "because giving me the cold shoulder is obviously something very normal for you. Come on, Sap. You can tell me anything."

"It's nothing, seriously." Sapnap laughed, but even Dream knew that it sounded a little too _forced._ "Can't a man simply wake up for a nice, refreshing morning walk, and hunt down some food for breakfast?"

"We've already done enough fishing yesterday, so there's no need for you to look for more food," Dream sighed. "Besides... for all the time that I've known you, you've never been a morning person. A-And..." His brows creased together. "...You've never liked using your blades. You always preferred your fire, if anything. So _no,_ I don't think it's 'nothing serious'."

"All the time you've known me..." Sapnap shook his head, laughing quietly. "That's not very much compared to how long you've known _George,_ isn't it?"

Dream looked at him, stunned. "...What?"

"I saw you two last night." Sapnap's tone was clipped. "I don't... I..." He exhaled slowly. "I don't think I can hide it from you any longer."

"What do you mean?" Dream asked, although he had a heavy feeling he knew _exactly_ what.

"What are we?" Sapnap refused to meet his gaze, clearing his throat. "I've— _ha_ —The last few months we shared together... I really—I really thought we had something there."

"Oh." A pang of guilt flashed across Dream's features. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"It's my fault for getting my hopes up," Sapnap laughed bitterly. " _God,_ I was such a fool, wasn't I? It was always him for you, wasn't he?"

"Y-You're no fool," Dream sputtered helplessly, trying to look for words that could ease his friend's pain.

"So you don't deny it then?"

It seemed, however, that all he could do was fan the flames further. "I don't..." He stammered, before guilt rose up in his throat. "I... Yeah. He is."

"I thought... I thought I could keep your mind off of him for a second." Sapnap let go of the makeshift crank he was turning. "He's the reason you got into that mess in Wyktan back then, wasn't he?"

"Everything I've done up to that point was _my_ decision," Dream spat, anger flickering in his eyes. "George never asked me to do anything for him. It's my own fault that I've ended up that way."

"You went back to Wyktan so you can spend the rest of your _life_ with _him!_ " Sapnap stood up, blood simmering beneath his veins. " _And_ you put yourself in danger just to go to him, despite _everything!_ "

"I wouldn't have met you, otherwise, would I?"

Sapnap winced, gritting his teeth.

"Look," Dream sighed, standing up as well. "I don't want to fight with you, Sapnap. I'm sorry that I couldn't return your feelings, but I don't want to lose our friendship over this. You mean so much to me too, Sap, but... not in that way."

"Sometimes, I wonder what would've happened if we never found out about the wedding in Everial," Sapnap said icily.

Dream's blood ran cold. "Sapnap—"

"We could've been in Eppelage by then, away from the Red Duke's stupid deals. They would have resolved the Great Decay by themselves, for all I care."

He clenched his fists by his sides, trembling slightly. "Sap—"

"It's all because of _him_ that you're still suffering like this!"

"Sapnap, that's enough!" Dream snarled. "You don't have to be so _jealous!_ "

"Well, I _am!_ " Fire burst from Sapnap's palms, nearly searing Dream's cloak from its intensity. He recoiled in horror, eyes wide. The flames disappeared in an instant as he took a deep breath, holding himself in his arms.

"S-Sapnap..." Dream murmured.

"I think..." He gulped, turning away. "I think I need some space for a while."

Dream could do nothing but watch as Sapnap walked away, footsteps fading, small bursts of orange fire burning away at some stray twigs and branches on the forest floor. He noted then, with heaviness in his heart, that a few of the surrounding trees have already been charred black.

* * *

George stilled for a moment. He'd woken up to the sounds of screaming, and worry immediately gnawed at his gut. Were they in trouble? Had they been attacked? He put his hand up to the flap when things suddenly got quiet, and he drew back hesitantly, afraid to see what awaited him outside. He heard Dream curse out loud, bringing some sense of relief to him, and he made his way out. The Ender was sitting by a newly-lit campfire, head buried in his hands, shoulders shaking.

"Dream?" George asked hesitantly. "Is everything alright?"

Dream lifted his head up, mask askew, hair disheveled. He cleared his throat and fixed himself up. "I'm fine," he said hoarsely, shaking his head. "It's okay."

"What happened?" George asked, taking a seat down next to him. He let his eyes roam around, gasping upon seeing the blackened trees. "Sapnap... Did he—?"

"Yeah..." Dream nodded wearily. "Yeah. We... We had a fight. It's stupid. He'll come around. I... I'm sure."

He looked so awful that George couldn't help but feel sorry for him, his heart aching at the sight of his downcast face. Dream was supposed to be the sunnier one, confident and charming, keeping the mood light and sweet. George would do _anything_ to see him smile again.

Even if it meant shattering his heart in the process.

George stood up. "I'm going after him," he declared.

"What?" Dream said, alarmed. "I don't think he'd want to see you right now."

"I don't care," George replied determinedly. "I can handle myself against fire, Dream. I'll fix this for you."

Dream laughed weakly. "I don't think you can."

"Okay, well," George breathed. "If I don't return in fifteen minutes, you can go look for me, okay?"

"I can't stop you, can I?" A feeble smile made its way onto Dream's face.

"No." George smiled in return, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. "I'll be back soon."

"Take care."

He spared him one last glance before he headed into the trees, guided by nothing else but the smoldering remains of Sapnap's destruction.

* * *

George eventually found the man sulking by a large ash tree, scorching the bark with his lashing flames. He could hear Sapnap's wails of fury, his fists hitting against the trunk with such force, that George was almost afraid that he'd end up knocking the whole thing over.

Perhaps he should've listened to Dream after all— _no._ He'd better fix this fight now and fast.

"Leave me alone, George," Sapnap snapped, catching him off-guard. "I _really_ don't want to see you here."

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Dream knows better than to go after an angry fire-user." He shot a quick blast by George's feet, causing him to yelp and jump up in surprise. Sapnap turned around and stalked away, still fuming.

"H-Hey!" George cried, stomping out the flames (so _red,_ so _angry_ ) with his feet. "Wait up!"

"Leave me alone!"

George did _not_ do as he said, continuing to go after him instead. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" he pleaded. "Dream's upset without you there."

"Oh? Then why don't _you_ go comfort him, since you're _so_ good at that!" He barely dodged another stray fireball coming from the angry Pyrokene. Sapnap's haphazard throws made George believe that he didn't really mean to hit him. Not intentionally, at least.

"We're not going anywhere without you, Sapnap," George said firmly, refusing to let his statement fluster him.

"Well then, maybe you _should._ " Sapnap finally stopped, whirling around to face him. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, brows knitted together in rage. "With the way everyone _practically_ ignores me, I'm _always_ the one getting left behind!"

"T-That's not true—"

"Really?" Sapnap barked out a laugh, bitter and dripping with sarcasm. "He acts like _you're_ the only one there when I... _I'm_ here. I'm here too, aren't I?" The flames in his palms died down into nothing but the faint smell of smoke, lingering throughout the Wood.

George swallowed down the lump in his throat, unsure of how to react. He approached Sapnap—now less tense, more weary—and slowly drew him into a hug. The other man doesn't push him away.

"What do you have that I don't...?" Sapnap sobbed onto his shoulder, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I don't think I'm the one you should be asking that," George said wryly. "I'm not all that you think I may be. If anything"—he stared forlornly at the ground—"you're a much, _much_ better choice than I am. I'm just a sorry excuse for a Dragonborn. You were there for him and I... _wasn't._ "

"But it's _you_ who he still wants," Sapnap whispered brokenly, pulling himself away from George's arms.

George's heart did flips upon hearing Sapnap's words. _Dream wanted him?_ Him, with the burden of his issues? Him, so weak and useless against his problems? Him, who wanted Dream back just as badly, if not more? He should be pleased, _no,_ ecstatic even!

But the pit in his stomach remained. He couldn't celebrate knowing that Sapnap would be hurting next to them. Someone _better_ . Someone more... _deserving._

The Dragonborn sighed, taking a moment to inspect the other's bruised knuckles. "You're bleeding."

Sapnap sniffled and waved off his concerns. "I'll be fine." He took a small vial of something red tucked into his belt, draining it in one gulp. Slowly, the splotches on his skin faded, skin knitting over and healing the area. He flexed his hand—just as good as new.

"Will you go back with me, then?"

"I can't," Sapnap murmured faintly. "Dream hates me now. I've said—I've said so _much._ "

"I promise that he doesn't hate you," George said softly. "I've seen how he looked before I left... He was devastated."

"He isn't angry with me?"

"Of course not." George paused for a moment. "He told me he hoped you'd come around soon."

"Oh." Sapnap's gaze darkened for a bit. "I—"

Suddenly, there was the sound of a twig snapping a few ways from them. George instinctively reached for his axe, only to realize, horror dawning on his face, that he'd forgotten it in his tent.

"Dream...?" He called out hesitantly. "Is that you?"

A low, gurgling groan sounded out in reply.

They both got to their feet, stances wide and alert as they saw the outlines of a waiting horde lurking beneath the shadows of the trees. Grayish, greenish husks staring with cold, empty eyes—mouths slack and dripping with saliva. Old, tattered clothes hung loosely around their shoulders, some more worn than others.

Zombies; buried from the local villages, mayhaps, or the remnants of the poor souls who failed to get out of the Wood, all revived by the influence of the Great Decay. There wasn't much light in the area, George noted, which could be why they felt safe enough to emerge. 

"We have to go back to camp," he murmured, eyes flickering back and forth among the mob.

"We can just set these goons on fire," Sapnap snarled.

"And risk burning down the whole forest?" George gasped. "Are you _mad?_ "

"Don't care."

That was all George got before a figure suddenly darted towards them, and he reached out in self-defense.

"Watch out!" He cried, letting fire stream from his fingertips. The zombie screeched in pain until it crumbled down into ash, and George stood rooted in the spot, transfixed. 

The flame within him burned brighter, _bolder,_ and it felt much easier to grasp it and mold it to whatever he wanted; for now, at least.

Sapnap raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, so when _you're_ the one setting the forest on fire, it's alright? Got it."

"No!" George stammered. "I—I didn't mean—!"

"It's fine, don't mind me," Sapnap replied, fireball ready in his hand. "At least now we can do this my way."

More have gathered the courage to attack them, leaping and running at them in groups, snarling and groaning as they attempted to get a single bite in. Of course, with dual fire wielders, there was only so much that they could do.

George attempted to harness his fire again, the intensity of his flames still making him jump every time he'd successfully launched a fireball of his own. It wasn't as bright or grandiose as Sapnap's, but it was better than what he was previously able to accomplish. Perhaps it was his need to defend that triggered it? After all, he couldn't just _hide_ here.

"Oi, George, over there!" Sapnap jerked his head towards one leaping at them from the side. George nodded, searing their attacker. "Keep your eyes sharpened, and your hands ready at the sides. Direct your air, remember? Breathe."

George nodded and took a deep breath, launching purple flames towards the enemy. "That's the last of them, right?"

"No," Sapnap replied, grabbing him by the arm as they started running back the way they came. "But that will hold them back for now."

"I was surprised you didn't manage to burn anything aside from the zombies," George laughed weakly.

Sapnap snorted. "What am I, an amateur? Not everyone is struggling to control their powers like you, George."

"Hey!"

Suddenly, George was wrenched back from Sapnap's grasp, and his eyes immediately met the dark, grotesque mouth of a rotting zombie. He quickly pushed his hand against the zombie's head and delivered a surge of flame straight to its skull, his heart hammering loudly in his chest. It shrieked and tightened its hold around his wrist, causing George to cry out in pain. Finally, it was dead, and George immediately yanked his hand out of its grip, rubbing his sore wrist.

"Catch!" Sapnap yelled, throwing another red bottle at him.

George yelped as it shattered near his feet, the red fumes lingering in the air. His wrist suddenly felt better, though.

"I told you to _catch it!_ " Sapnap grumbled. "What a waste of good potion."

"I'm sorry!" George protested. "You could've given me a warning!"

"I _did,_ I said _catch._ "

George spared a glance at the remains of the zombie. Its flesh bubbled where the potion had touched it, seeping through the skin and into its cavities.

"Come on," Sapnap sighed. "Let's go before any more zombies come to attack us." He hesitated for a bit. "You know... you're not half bad."

George smiled slightly. "Thank you."

"You're still terrible though."

"Oh."

* * *

When they got back to the campsite, Dream was still roasting the boar, a distant, faraway look on his face. He snapped out of his reverie when he'd caught sight of them, running over to envelop both of them in a crushing embrace.

"Are you alright?" He asked hurriedly, eyes roaming over Sapnap and George, staying a little longer on the latter. "I was going to come and get you, but—"

"It's fine," Sapnap said, clearing his throat. "Let's just... eat." He immediately headed towards the boar.

"I managed to get better control of my powers back there, too," George said. His need to defend himself had already waned, so all he could do was to summon a small, purple fireball, sitting snugly in his palm. Dream chuckled as he watched it curl around George's fingers for a moment before dissipating.

"I'm proud of you," Dream said softly, accompanying him to the campfire, where Sapnap was already waiting.

"He's not that bad," he proclaimed through a mouthful of pork. "He's a pretty fast learner too. Maybe I can help train him after all."

"Thank you, Sapnap," George said with a faint smile.

"You said you've managed to control your powers?" Dream asked.

George nodded in turn. "I think it's got something to do with my emotions," he mused, "or at least, my desire to defend myself. It happened with the—the pillager captain, and the zombies earlier—"

"The zombies?" Dream echoed, alarmed.

"Yeah," Sapnap replied nonchalantly. "Cost me two of my health potions too. If we come across an apothecary in Cacitine, I'll be looking for more." George half-expected his name to come up, as it was technically his fault, but the other man did no such thing.

A minute of comfortable silence passed between the three of them before Sapnap opened his mouth again. "Hey, George."

"Hmm?"

"You said you think your fire's controlled by your emotions, right? Or how defensive you are?"

George shifted in his seat. "I'm not sure how I feel about it being phrased that way, but kind of, yes."

Sapnap peered at him curiously. "You've never tried to defend yourself before?" He tilted his head a little to the side. "Never felt strong emotions your entire life?"

"Sapnap," Dream said, his voice taking on a warning tone.

"No, Dream, it's fine," George said lightly. "Founetter was small, but safe. Our walls protected us from mobs and pillagers—at least, they were supposed to." He cleared his throat. "Um... I don't think I ever needed to have a strong defense. After all, I was aspiring to become a scribe—before I... met Dream, that is. It's not that dangerous of a job." _And emotions, well..._ "Actually, I don't think my powers rely on my emotions. Otherwise, I'll have burned down my library more times than I could count."

If it were, his despair should've been enough to protect his siblings when they needed him. It should've been enough to break him out of the dungeons. It should've been enough for him and Liz.

There was suddenly a hand on his back, stroking him gently and abruptly dragging him away from his thoughts. "I'm glad you two managed to figure some things out," Dream said kindly. "We've got the whole day to travel through the Wood—would it be good for you two to train as we walk?"

"I'm up for anything," Sapnap yawned, stretching his arms forward and overhead. "Might as well get a use out of it myself."

"I don't mind either," George replied. "I can test my theories out during training."

* * *

Dream held Claudia's and Sketch's reins in his hands as George and Sapnap ran ahead, the latter shooting fireballs as the former attempted to block them with his own. So far, it seemed that Sapnap's icy attitude towards George had melted away, and the two were on mostly friendly terms—if being friendly included throwing burning projectiles at someone and hearing them scream shrilly at the top of their lungs.

Sketch whinnied quietly, making him laugh and gently stroke the horse's neck. "Your Sapnap's a feisty one, isn't he?" Dream said softly. "It's no wonder that the two of you matched so well." Always so bright and lively, the two of them were. Not like himself, who tended to be rather reckless but also overprotective, or Claudia, who was shy and easily spooked.

_Kind of like—_

"Sapnap, leave me alone!" George shrieked, weaving quick blasts of purple to protect his face.

"Oh, come on, _Georgie,_ " Sapnap taunted, hopping from foot to foot. "You've yet to get me by the—HEY!"

George burst into giggles, mouth wide open in a giddy grin as Sapnap patted out the fire crawling along his trousers. "Serves you right, you jerk!"

Dream heaved out a lovestruck sigh, his eyes seemingly unable to take themselves off of George's face, illuminated by the pale moonlight. It bounced off the curve of his cheek, the angles of his jaw; the crease of his brow and the dark locks of his hair. It shone in his dark, brown eyes, like a sweet treacle. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Dream almost jumped, a bright blush dusting along his cheeks. Sapnap fired another attack at George again, and just like that, the moment was over.

Gods, he really was helpless for this man. No wonder Sapnap had been increasingly irritated with him.

"Why don't we stop here?" he called out, stopping by a rocky stream. "Light us a fire, will you?"

"Which one are you talking to?" Sapnap asked, though George was already on the task, eager to show off his newly mastered skill. "...I don't suppose I should be the one to set up the tents?"

"By all means, be my guest," Dream said with a faux yawn, leaning against Claudia's side. "I'm tired."

"Typical Dream," George drawled. "As if you were the one fighting all day! Making us do all of the work."

"Oh?" Dream's voice lowered some. "Would you like me to take over for you, then?"

"Stop it!"

Dream chuckled before turning to glance at Sapnap, who was busying himself with the tents. A twinge of guilt made its way down his stomach, worried about his reaction. But it seemed that Sapnap hadn't been paying attention at all, happily announcing that he'd done a better job than Dream ever had (he rolled his eyes at that one, too).

"I claim the bigger tent!" Sapnap declared.

"Oh—" Dream turned to face George. "Do you want to—"

"I'm going to stay in the smaller tent," the Dragonborn said swiftly. "I didn't get much sleep because of your snoring, you great oaf."

"Oh, don't say I didn't warn you," Sapnap said toothily. "But it's alright. Dream's used to my company now, aren't you, Dream?"

"Yeah," Dream replied with a smile.

George nodded. "It all works out then. Good night."

Dream quietly slipped into the tent, where Sapnap was already laying out his sheepskin. "You didn't have to be so rude to him, you know," he huffed.

"Who says I was being rude?" Sapnap scoffed. "He already said he was bothered by my snoring. Besides, God knows what you'd do in here if you ended up alone together."

Dream's nostrils flared in anger, but he held his tongue and kept his temper in check. The last thing they needed was another squabble, especially in the dead of the night. "I thought you were actually getting along. You can't fake your grins when you're fighting—and trust me, you've been fighting all day."

Sapnap inhaled sharply. "Did you use your Ender Eye to spy on us?" he accused.

"No, but I was tempted to." Dream said honestly. "You took so long in there that I... I got worried."

"Oh. About him?"

"I was worried about you too, you know. I meant it when I said that I valued our friendship."

"I like being your friend as well," Sapnap grumbled, after a while. "But that doesn't mean I have to be friends with _him_ too."

Dream sighed. "I don't suppose you should."

"Besides, once the week is over, we can all go our separate ways." He could see Sapnap shaking slightly next to him. "You won't have to see me again, and you can both be gross together."

Dream fell silent, hurt flickering across his face. "You can't mean that."

Sapnap didn't reply, and it wasn't until Dream heard his telltale snores that he concluded that the man was already asleep. Parting in general was always such a sweet sorrow, but parting on bad terms left nothing but bitterness in his mouth.

He'll just make it up to them tomorrow.

Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those two tents are probably some of the greatest plot devices I have ever written hahaha~ I might be uploading less frequently due to school, but don't fret! I will still _try_ to stick to my schedule (as if I ever uploaded on time—)!
> 
> Do tell if I need to put up any more warnings! Comments and kudos are always appreciated. ♡


	8. Split

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> TW: Nightmares, Minor character death, Mentions of injuries
> 
> I wasn't kidding when I added the "Villain SBI" tag by the way. Do heed the warnings, loves!

A feather quill rested lightly in George's hand, curls of dark ink running across the parchment in bold strokes. A single candle illuminated his work in the dark, dusty room, but George didn't seem to mind. A faint giggle sounded out behind him, and suddenly, a hand was trailing across his chin and up his cheek, turning his head towards them.

"Dream," he said softly, standing up and throwing himself at the taller man.

"George," Dream replied easily, wrapping an arm around his waist and clasping his hand in his own.

They danced around the darkened room, the purple glow of the fire growing fainter and fainter as Dream led him in a series of turns away from the desk, green eyes locked onto brown. His breath was warm against his face, mouth curled up into a handsome smirk. It was only then that he noticed that Dream wasn't wearing his usual mask, his face bare for the world to see.

"Dream," George sighed again, ever so sweetly, tightening his hold around his hand.

The Ender didn't respond, this time twirling him away so that they were at two arms' length from each other. George attempted to spin back towards him when Dream suddenly let go of his hand, leaving him stumbling in the dark.

"Dream?" he called out worriedly. He dusted himself off and ran after him. "Dream!" The man's sunny laughter faded away with every step that he took. George heaved and pushed himself further until he finally saw him again, cloaked and masked and bathed in a warm, orange glow.

"George," Dream said, still smiling.

"Dream," George replied sorrowfully. "Why did you go?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he replied breezily, laughing again. "What made you think I'd stay?" He laughed and laughed as George felt nothing but cold, cold ice plunging deep in his stomach, freezing his blood until he slowly grew numb.

_Silly George._

* * *

George woke up with a start, sputtering and hacking out his lungs as he sat up and glanced around at his wet surroundings. He was utterly drenched in water, dark hair plastered against his forehead, clothes sagging against his body. He looked up to see Sapnap, who was holding a flask and staring at him with wide eyes, brows knitted in concern.

"What was that for?!" George would've yelled if he wasn't so hoarse, rubbing at his throat with one hand.

"You were talking in your sleep," Sapnap drawled. "I couldn't wake you up, so I took it upon myself to rescue you from your inner demons. You're welcome."

"This will take _ages_ to dry off," George grumbled, feeling around for the spectacles that Dream had given him. "Ugh! Why did you _do_ that? Oh, you better be thankful that my glasses didn't get wet!"

"You've got your fire now, don't you?" Sapnap pointed out. "You can dry yourself in seconds if you try."

George looked at him, a bit skeptical. "Right." He concentrated on his palm, feeling for the crackling energy in his core that he'd gotten used to yesterday. This time, however, instead of a perfect fireball, there was nothing coming up to his hand, not even a twinge nor a hiss of smoke.

It felt like he was back at square one again.

Sapnap must've noticed the horror on his face, as he sighed and helped George to his feet, leaving the tent with him in tow. "Look, you'll need to be able to hone your powers even when the surroundings aren't dry enough," he spoke. "Didn't you think they'll be able to use water against you?"

"They...?"

"King Technoblade and his goons, obviously." George paled at Sapnap's blunt statement. "What, you thought you'd be able to get away from him _that_ easily?"

"Then shouldn't we keep going towards the Moors?"

"And leave yourself defenseless?" Sapnap scoffed. "Come on. Just _one_ flame. Like I taught you yesterday. You _do_ remember, right?"

"Of course I do!" George snapped. "Sorry. It's not like I suddenly forgot after a whole day of doing nothing but that. It _should_ practically be second nature to me by now."

He put all of his effort and energy into conjuring even a single flame. He recalled every technique Sapnap and Liz tried to tell him before, tried to reach for the power deep within him, attempting to summon something, _anything._ He looked around for anything that seemed like a threat; maybe that gnarled tree over there could be hiding some more zombies? Sapnap looked tense, maybe he's gearing up to attack him when he wasn't looking? That bush rustled nearby, what if Techno or his army were hiding behind it, waiting for a moment to strike?

A small ball of flame finally manifested in his hand, much to his surprise.

"Hold it! Hold it!" Sapnap said sharply.

"I'm _trying!_ " George yelped, dread filling him as he watched it fizzle out slowly, growing smaller and smaller until it was reduced to nothing.

"Try it again. You've already done it once."

"I don't even know how I managed to do it," George protested. "Can't we stop for a while? I'm getting tired."

"You can do it! I know you can."

George tried again, imagining Techno bursting out of the trees and raising his sword to kill him. His eyes, wild with rage, teeth bared in a snarl. The deep coat he always wore about to be stained with his own blood. George waited for the purple glow by his fingertips, but nothing came up, to his dismay.

"Sapnap, I can't do it," he sighed wearily. "Where's Dream? We really have to move."

"He was gone even before I woke up," Sapnap replied dismissively. "Now come on!"

Snap. Flicker. "Sapnap, how much water did you pour on me?!" Snap. Flicker. "An entire lake?!" Snap. Flicker.

" _Just do it, George!_ "

"I _can't!_ " The purple flame roared and immediately fizzled from his fingertips. George sighed in frustration, sitting down onto the ground and running a hand through his hair. "Let's just build ourselves a campfire. I need to dry myself up. This isn't going to work."

"Huh." Sapnap made a noncommittal hum at the back of his throat as he sat down in front of George, arranging the stray twigs and branches into tinder and kindling. "I guess I kind of expected better from a Dragonborn."

"What's that supposed to mean?" George snapped, narrowing his eyes. 

"Well..." Sapnap started, a little hesitantly. "Everyone's always seen your lot as some kind of really powerful beings, you know? You've got the highest potential out of any other halfling and..."

"I'm _sorry_ I couldn't meet your expectations," flew out of George's mouth before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry I didn't think of developing my powers more like you did!"

"Now look where that got you!" Sapnap scoffed, irritation in his tone. "Your village got _destroyed,_ you were left helpless at the altar, and now you can barely even survive without the two of us here! All you've got to do is spread your legs and Dream's going to come and get you whatever you want—" 

"W-What—?"

Sapnap's eyes immediately widened and he clasped a hand over his mouth.

"Huh. There it is." George let out a bitter laugh, his fist shaking in anger. "I finally know what else you think of me. You—You think I'm just... some common _whore,_ don't you?"

"George," Sapnap pleaded, "George no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, I—"

George stood up, fuming. "Go ahead then," he shot vehemently. "If you believe I'm so much of a burden, I'll just take my leave. I'm the one everyone's after, aren't I? A-At least I'll be able to protect everyone this way." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, averting his gaze from the other man. "I know how strongly you feel about Dream, too. Just don't break his heart for me, okay?"

He turned and walked away, still dripping wet from the earlier water fiasco, Sapnap sitting as still as stone, frozen to the core.

* * *

George wasn't sure how long he'd been walking through the forest, his thoughts churning in his head over and over again, screaming obscenities and mockeries at him. They called him weak for leaving Sapnap and Dream behind. They called him stupid for choosing to sacrifice himself. He grit his teeth and continued his trek to nowhere. He'll finish the quest himself if he really had to. He's the only one that Bad was tracking, right? That should buy them enough time to escape.

The wind blew past his damp clothes, sending a chill through his body. George shivered, hugging himself tightly. He could return to camp and—!

No.

He'll just prove Sapnap wrong then. He _can_ handle himself. In fact, he was going to start training _now!_

George took one one last attempt at conjuring a nice, hot fire, concentrating on the flow of warmth to his fingers. He hummed, pleasantly surprised when a small lick of flame suddenly appeared, remaining for half a minute before it disappeared.

Well, that was certainly progress. Then again, he was certainly drier compared to earlier, if only by some margin.

The bushes suddenly rustled next to him, and he immediately whirled around in its direction. Images of terrifying mobs and the cruel king of Everial suddenly flashed in his mind. George shakily held out his arm in self-defense, ready to flick tiny bursts of flame at the attacker, which would probably do no more damage than a matchstick could.

The figure that emerged from within was neither a gnashing zombie nor a bloody tyrant, but a frightened, blonde woman, the pallor of her cheeks and her wide, gray eyes suddenly familiar to him.

"Liz?" George called faintly.

She gasped at once, flinging herself in his arms as she sobbed in relief, hot tears soaking his already wet tunic.

"George, oh, George," Liz cried onto his shoulder. "I dreaded that I'd never see you again!"

"Liz, what are you doing here?" George asked in alarm.

She pulled herself away from him, grabbing him by the arm and running far away from the direction in which she'd come from. "Come on, George, before they see us! I can't let you get hurt again, the Fates be damned!"

Elizabeth's long hair was tangled and unkempt, no doubt from days of not having it brushed, and her frock was dirtied and frayed at the hems. Tiny scars and scrapes littered her arms beneath her sleeves, causing bile to rise in his throat. He'd ask her more about it had he still not been in a state of shock. All this time, Liz was alive! She's here, and she's _alive,_ and he wasn't sure whether that had been a greater surprise to him than Dream's sudden reappearance.

They finally stopped at a clearing to catch their breaths onto a fallen log. "Wilbur doesn't know I'm gone," Liz mumbled. "I don't know how long we've got until then."

"Wilbur...?" A lump formed in George's throat. _Surely, she didn't mean...?_

Liz nodded faintly. "The Earl of Sotteron himself," she said, bitterness coating her words. "Him and his whole camp can sod right off! I don't think I can stomach another word from him or the other Everian nobles. Oh, George, I don't know if I should be happy that you're so far from that awful, awful place!"

"What happened?" he urged her. "Why is Wilbur here? What's happening in Everial?"

"They've found Invidel's camp a few hours after the attack in the castle," Liz whispered, wringing her hands together. "The Red Duke's, I believe. The Duke of Montessy?"

"T-They've... Duke BadBoyHalo?" The dread in George's stomach grew icier and icier, filling up his chest and rising in his throat like bile. "They were after the attack?"

"Apparently so." Liz kept her gaze downwards. "I didn't get to hear much of the details, but the Duke of Ardeca and the Duke of Innstile went after him. They might be preparing for war."

 _Philza and Tommy..._ George felt faint. If those two had discovered him, Dream, and Sapnap at Bad's camp that night, they would've surely been hanged, drawn, and quartered in front of the whole kingdom. He shuddered to think of it.

"And Wilbur?" George asked quietly.

"The King said that he cared not for the wedding anymore," she said, tears forming in her eyes again. "He wants you to suffer painfully, George, and W-Wilbur was sent to find you."

"Did he hurt you?" he asked seriously.

She shook her head. "A few shoves here and there, but nothing too grave."

"You can hide," George said resolutely, standing up. "You can hide and let it all burn away. I don't want you to get dragged into this chaos, Liz. It's me they're all after."

"I'm not leaving you, George!" Liz cried. "You're practically family to me. I'm not letting you suffer alone."

"I don't want you to suffer _at all!_ " George protested. "I can handle myself now, Liz. Hide yourself, don't let Wilbur—don't let _anyone_ catch you!"

"I won't! I won't leave you here—!"

Their arguments were drowned out by the sound of heavy boots on the forest floor. In the shadows of the trees, George could still see _him_ clearly; the wavy, brown curls parted neatly to the side, face shining with mirth and malintent all at once. His armor bore the distinctive, bloody crest of Everial. There was no doubt that this man was the Earl, looking positively pleased with himself.

George, in his panic, attempted to summon his fire again. _Defend! D-Defend! This was a good reason, right? He could do it now, right?_

"Stay back!" Liz snarled, holding out a trembling arm in front of George.

"I'm not afraid of you, poppet," Wilbur said smoothly. "Not after what I've seen in these past couple of days. For a Dragonborn, you are quite lacking in the _'dragon'_ department."

_I guess I kind of expected better from a Dragonborn._

An incensed growl left George's lips, and he found himself unconsciously summoning the warmth back to his fingertips, the hot glow aching to be released.

"Leave us alone," he hissed. "Nobody has to know you were here."

Wilbur cocked his head to the side. "Why, pray tell, should I?"

"Think of your kingdom, my lord," Liz murmured. "Getting George back would only prompt Invidel to wage war. Think of the casualties!"

"Everything I do _is_ for my kingdom!" Wilbur laughed in amusement, as if everything was simply a game to him. "Now don't put up a fuss, Dragonborn, and I'll make sure you get back to Everial in one piece."

"Over my dead body!" George yelled. "Liz, run!"

With that, he threw his shot, the purple ball of fire speeding towards the earl. What he didn't expect was Wilbur's lightning-fast reflexes, drawing his sword and sending the fireball hurtling towards the trees.

"Impressive," he cackled gleefully, "how the draconic menace grows more powerful! But I suppose we're doing this the hard way, then." He raised his sword overhead, eyes glinting.

Suddenly, Liz ran and tackled Wilbur to the ground, yelling for George to escape. However, all he could do was freeze and stare in horror as Wilbur smacked Liz away as if she were nothing but a mere doll, followed by a resounding, sickening crack. George barely had any time left to scream when a loud thud resounded in his skull, pain suddenly blooming against his head, and then, nothingness.

* * *

Dream ran through the trees with Sapnap in tow, the latter ashen-faced and still spewing apologies. They held their respective horse's reins in their hands, just in case they needed a quick ride back. He tuned out Sapnap's babbling as they passed through empty clearings and countless bushes, and even with the aid of his Ender Eye, there was only so much he could reach.

Suddenly, there in his vision, was a body crumpled down onto the ground.

"Sapnap!" he yelled, fear gripping his heart. "Over there!"

They quickly ran to the scene, holding their breaths. What Dream saw was not his beloved George, but a dead woman. Her eyes were wide and glazed over, face frozen in shock, crimson pooling beneath her head and matted in her hair. Dream knew she was already gone, but he couldn't help but check her for a pulse anyway.

"She's... not that cold," he murmured. "Someone was here recently, and they killed her." It couldn't have been George, could it? He just couldn't picture sweet George murdering an innocent person in cold blood.

"Dream," came Sapnap's guilty voice. The Ender turned to face him, and his blood immediately ran cold.

There, in Sapnap's hands, were George's copper spectacles.

"N-No," Dream whispered faintly, gingerly holding the item. "G-George..." 

He had only gone looking for honey that morning, for some marzipan and some pralines. How could so much happen in so little time? How could George be taken from him _yet again?_

He shook his head and focused his Eye on his surroundings, searching desperately for George. Better that he was abducted rather than killed, no matter how much he hated either outcome equally.

"I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to him," Sapnap lamented. "I'll leave if he wants me to. It's my fault that he ran away—"

"Shut up," Dream hissed. "Finding George should be our priority. If you weren't such a—" He bit his tongue and shook his head angrily. Fighting was useless now, especially when his friend's life was at stake.

Sapnap stared at the ground, his head hung low. "I know," he said softly.

Dream finally caught sight of a brown horse speeding away with its armored rider, another body sitting in front, limbs restrained, head lolling from side to side.

_George._

"Sapnap, come on!" Dream shouted, mounting his horse and taking off in the direction of the mystery rider.

The narrow, tree-laden paths got a little wider, enough for them to comfortably speed through without much hindrances. Dream kept his eyes locked onto his target, refusing to let him out of his sight. George's glasses remained safe in his satchel, along with his other important belongings—it was only then that Dream regretfully realized that they'd left their tents and their heavier supplies behind. No matter, they can still go back for them, right?

"Dream!" Sapnap called out, eyes darting backwards. "We're being chased!"

Dream could see their armor glinting in the afternoon sun, and the familiar coat of arms emblazoned on their chest plates—Everial soldiers, without a doubt.

_Which meant that Techno had gotten a hold of George once more._

He blinked away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. _Not now._

"Dream!" Sapnap shouted just in time for a couple of soldiers to block his path, encircling them and ensuring they had no clear way out.

"Halt, in the name of the law!" cried one of the knights.

Dream's gut turned to lead as George reached the fringes of his vision, until he was gone, unable to be found again.

Sapnap growled and shot out a ring of flames around Dream and himself, big and roaring and keeping their enemies at bay. Some got caught in the crossfire, armors blazing as they desperately tried to put it out and save themselves. Horses whinnied in fright at the sight of the flames, not one rider daring to breach the wall of fire for fear of hurting themselves or their companions.

"What do we do now?" Sapnap asked hurriedly as the fire grew bigger and brighter, shrinking the space between him and Dream, as well as forcing the soldiers to scatter further.

"I could... I could try..." Dream mumbled shakily.

"No..." Sapnap's eyes widened in alarm. "Dream, moving two people is already too much for you to handle, let alone four!"

"I have to try." Dream shook his head. "I'm not letting them take George away from me again."

He grabbed Sapnap by the arm and focused all his energy onto one spot ahead of them, clinging tightly onto Sapnap and Claudia. In a flash, they were gone, and safely teleported out of the ring. Dream immediately slumped over against Claudia's neck, comforting her as she whinnied quietly.

"You're exhausted," Sapnap murmured.

"I'll manage," Dream panted heavily, blinking the weariness from his eyes. "Come on, before they get out of my range."

Sapnap nodded in resignation, glancing worriedly at Dream every once in a while even as he continued to lead them closer and closer to George.

Dream's heart sank in his chest. It was hard to maintain his focus, especially now with the haze of fatigue. _I'm not losing you again, George. Not this time. Not like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! ~~Haha don't kill me yet—~~ (･∀･；)
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~


	9. The Earl of Sotteron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Early update! ☆~
> 
> Listen. Can you watch Wilbur's Among Us playthroughs and not see him as an antagonist at some point? He wanted to be an impostor SO BAD, I swear.

Pain flared along the sides of George's skull, squeezing it in its iron grip. It only got worse as he tried to move his head around, his neck stiff and aching. George tested his limbs and discovered that his hands had been bound and crossed behind his back, numb from lack of movement. He tried to kick his legs, but they'd been tied together as well; the sudden motion sparking a sharp, prickling sensation down to his feet.

He groaned, forcing himself to open his eyes, despite the dull throbbing at his temples.

The first thing he realized was that the world was less vibrant; back in hues of yellow and blue.

His glasses were gone.

Panic gripped his chest, and worsened further upon seeing the unfamiliar surroundings. _What in the world had happened?_ The last thing George remembered was fighting with Sapnap, walking angrily through the woods, and... and...

The tent opened, and in walked a man he'd hoped he'd never encounter again, besides Technoblade: Wilbur Soot, more commonly known as the Earl of Sotteron. George would never forget the first and only visit Wilbur paid him in the dungeons, essentially telling him that the King only kept him alive because he was pretty.

_"He'll make up some bullshit reason," Wilbur had told him, "just to keep you here. He'll promise the world many things—wonderful things, but we know the sick and twisted truth, don't we, Dragonborn?"_

_"Leave me be," George wept into his knees. "Leave me to die here alone."_

_"You know he'll never allow that," Wibur said, oozing with false sympathy. "Not for wretches like you." He pushed the bowl of gruel through the gap in the cell door. "Now, eat up, poppet. Aren't you glad you're still alive?"_

_Then he'd burst into laughter before setting his features into a calm, stoic expression, and left him alone to wallow in his misery._

Now, Wilbur was back, with a similar grin on his face. He appraised George in a way that seemed so much more uncomfortable than when Bad had done it; at least then, he had no idea how the man would act. Now his eyes practically bore into his, when George was all helpless and prone on the floor like a toy.

"So the bugger awakens!" the earl spoke cheerfully. "I was very surprised to see you dressed like _this,_ you know. No matter, it seems that you already know your place."

"Where's Liz?" George snapped. "Where have you taken me?"

"We're in the middle of nowhere, Georgie dear," Wilbur said dismissively. "Besides, you don't have to worry about that little trollop anymore. So stay put, and maybe I won't have to knock you out again, okay?"

George blanched, rage bubbling in his veins. "You _bastard!_ " he howled. "What have you done with her?! Let me go, let me _go!_ I'll kill you, I swear it! Let me—"

Wilbur scowled, grabbing George's cheeks roughly with one hand. The latter cried in pain, tears forming in his eyes.

"Now _you_ listen here, you insolent little brat," Wilbur seethed. "His Majesty is already on his way to pick you up. Be grateful that it's already nighttime, or I'd have delivered you to Everial myself faster than you could say 'die'."

"Fuck you," George hissed.

"And one more thing." A sadistic grin spread across Wilbur's face. "I've received reports of a little duo scouring the forest not far from us. Do you know them, perchance?" George's eyes widened in terror, and Wilbur laughed again. "Interesting."

Wilbur released his face with a wrench of his hand, jerking the poor boy's head downwards in his wake. George felt nothing but numbness as he trembled slightly, hating how powerless he felt in Wilbur's so-called care, the latter smiling contentedly at his suffering, and cooing thinly-veiled threats in his ear ("Shall I throw them in the dungeons, too? Or execute them right away? We shall see, won't we?"). 

What had he done to deserve this?

Even if Dream and Sapnap managed to find him, they would still have to deal with Wilbur and his army. Judging by the distant sound of merriment, they would have to be numerous; surely, they wouldn't stand a chance, even with Sapnap's pyrokinesis. They should just go and save themselves before they suffer any further. They should just go and... leave him to rot. Lonely and isolated in the middle of who knows where. It's why he left in the first place, right? So that if they're ever found, Technoblade wouldn't be able to lay a finger on them, even though it meant he'll never see Sapnap nor Dream ever again.

_Never see..._

George blinked back the tears blurring his vision, choking back a sob.

 _No._ He refused to fall prey to any of Everial's schemes again. If he had to get out of this mess all by himself, then by the Fates above, he will!

"Aww, poor Georgie's gone quiet now," Wilbur sighed, dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps a meal would satiate your poor, hungry stomach." He must've noticed the way George glared at him in shock and fury, as he further amended his statement. "No, no, don't you worry, poppet. It's just plain, old, gruel, just the way you like it! I'll fetch some for you, since I'm _such_ a good host."

Wilbur left the tent, and George immediately scoured his surroundings for anything that could help him. The tent was bare-bones, with only a small cot in the corner, as well as some spare helmets. _So far, nothing useful..._

A quick inspection of the material binding his wrists led him to believe that it was iron cuffs, which he could probably melt away, if he could regain proper control of his flames. His legs were only bound by rope, so he could burn that off easily; of course, it would be quite obvious if he had, and thus should save it for later.

George let the warmth flow back to his fingertips, a much easier feat since he'd gotten nice and dry at last, and tried to melt off the chain holding the cuffs together. He concentrated on one spot lest the whole thing turned red-hot, which obviously wouldn't be ideal. His focus got thrown off when the tent opened again with a loud _whoosh,_ startling him.

"Sorry for the interruption," Wilbur said, peeking his head into the tent, "but it seems like we've got some guests I've got to take care of." George carefully kept his face neutral even as his entire mind was screaming at him in anguish. "Fundy, get in here, won't you? There's a good lad."

In walked another soldier carrying a bowl of what George assumed to be gruel, his mouth drawn into a tight scowl. Wilbur bade them a farewell before heading off, and it was all George could do to not break down crying in front of the other man. Instead, he continued on trying to melt away his cuffs before this _Fundy_ fellow could try anything.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Fundy huffed.

"I don't know if you noticed," George drawled, "but I'm not exactly in a position to feed myself."

"Starve, then. I'm not going to be the one to do it."

The chains were nearly broken. He only needed a bit more time before he could finally escape.

"Think I'll die first before Technoblade could get to me?" George laughed humorlessly.

Fundy's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Halflings and their jokes..." he murmured distastefully. George felt his wrists wriggle free at last, but he kept them crossed behind his back in case the other tried something. "Just eat your gruel. Or don't. I don't care."

"At least bring it a little closer to me." George rolled his eyes. Fundy sighed and approached him with the bowl in his hands. As he set down the meager meal, he suddenly drew back in shock, clutching his head and running his hand frantically through his hair.

"You alright?" George asked, alarmed.

"Shut it," Fundy hissed, retrieving a blue vial from his silk belt. In a flash, George used his legs to send the guard stumbling to the ground, the bottle slipping from the other's hands and rolling down to the ground. George immediately hid it with his body, daring Fundy to take it from him.

"I will scream," George breathed, "if you touch me whatsoever."

Fundy's eyes widened in alarm before they narrowed into slits. George watched as the tips of the other's hair slowly turned white, the pale streaks stark against the dark locks. Fundy glared at him even as a pair of fluffy, fox-like ears sprang on top of his head.

"Give me the vial," he scowled.

"You're a Vosune?" George gaped.

"I knew I shouldn't have left!" Fundy cursed, trying to flatten down his ears against his hair. "I _told_ Wilbur it would be too great a risk, but did he _listen?_ No!"

"The Earl knows?" George echoed. Fundy covered his mouth, eyes wide and twitching.

"He told me no one else would know!" The Vosune sounded a bit more frantic now, fists clenching and unclenching as though he didn't know what to do with them. "He promised... He promised me..."

"And what would everyone say when they find out?" George pressed further. "There's a halfling among their ranks—filth, like they called us. Part of the earl's army, too! You'd be hanged, if you were lucky." He shook his head. "To think... What would your clan think when they find out you've been supporting murderers?"

"You don't know anything, Dragonborn," Fundy seethed. "My clan abandoned me. They don't care about me at all. Not like... Not like Wilbur did."

George uncrossed his arms and burned down the ropes by his legs, grabbing the blue vial in one hand. He pointed the other at Fundy, readying a burst of purple flame before he could react. He inspected the potion with a frown.

"If Wilbur really cared about you, like you say he does," he spoke softly, "he would've told you that foxglove seeds are more effective in curbing Vosune traits."

"H-Huh?"

"Wolfsbane's pretty expensive," George said, shaking the vial. "Not to mention it only lasts for a day."

"How did you free yourself?"

George rolled his eyes. "Listen to me. He's only keeping you under his thumb for who knows how long. Foxglove lasts for at least three days, and it's far more common to find, too. Don't you see? Wilbur's just using you."

"You're free, you can just walk away!"

George sighed. He didn't have time for this, not when Dream and Sapnap were out there, not when their lives were in danger! "Fundy, _listen—_ "

"You don't get to call me by my name," Fundy seethed. "How _dare_ you, you—"

"Fundy, I can protect your secret," George cut him off, and the other immediately fell silent. "I will bring it to the grave if you need me to. All you have to do is to grant me just one favor."

"What's stopping me from taking you to the grave right now?" Fundy narrowed his eyes.

"Techno needs me alive," George said with a bitter smile. "He'll have your head too if you kill me now."

Fundy exhaled slowly. "Fine. I'll bite. What do you want?"

"Lend me your armor," George replied. "I can't exactly waltz out of this tent without any protection."

"You've got your _flames,_ " Fundy sniped. "Besides, they're out there having drinks and being merry. They'll pay no attention to you."

"Yes," George insisted, "but when they find this tent empty with nothing but you in it, who then, will they blame? Better they think I knocked you out and stole your gear, yes?"

Fundy hesitated for a moment before shucking off his armor, revealing a long, fluffy tail jutting out behind him. He glared at George in warning before handing the things to him, taking a spare helmet from Wilbur's pile as well.

"Thank you," George said, returning the vial to him. Fundy took it hastily and swallowed down the contents in one gulp, sighing in relief as his non-human traits slowly faded back into his body, leaving him as plain and droll as everyone else. The streaks in his hair had gone dark again as well.

George hesitated as he held the helmet in his hands. "Hey, Fundy."

"What is it?" the other asked in annoyance.

"I wasn't lying about the foxgloves," he replied sincerely. "We're all trying to stay alive here, aren't we? S-So... I'd like you to know that there's at least one person in your corner."

"Either way, the odds were still stacked against me."

"Thank you for not killing me, anyhow."

Fundy laid down on the ground, pretending as though he'd been knocked down. "Good luck," he sighed. "I hope I never see you again, George."

"As do I." With that, George slipped out into the camp, disguised as a soldier. Fundy was right—nobody seemed to be paying him any attention, too busy in their own merriment to care. He made sure that nobody was following him before he slunk away into the trees.

He did it. George _did it!_ He escaped, all on his own, without needing anyone's help, and oh—oh _no..._ George's heart leapt in his throat in worry. Dream and Sapnap might be dead by now, and everything he'd done will be all for naught. His original plan—keeping away from everyone so that they might be safe—wasn't turning out so well. Liz, even... she...

George shook his head. What other choice did he have but to trudge on? Come to think of it, what part of the woods was he in? How many days away was he from the Moors? Bad might just be lurking around the corner, ready to take and execute him as soon as the deadline hit, if Phil and Tommy hadn't gotten to him yet. He stumbled through the forest, his heart pounding loudly through his ears, the light of the camp fading away in the distance. He itched to light his way forward, but he didn't know if he was more afraid of being seen, or seeing something he didn't want to.

Something crackled in the distance, and George remembered the stories they told around the campfire, Dream pressed snugly against his side. If... If he ever saw them again, he would give him up, if only so that Sapnap would stop antagonizing him. But even then, he missed the jabs, the training, the talks, the _warmth—_

"Oi!"

George bumped against something, and he looked back to see orange flames illuminating a familiar face.

"Everial scum," Sapnap hissed, and George couldn't help but let out a cry of relief.

"Sapnap!" he cried, rushing to remove his helmet. "It's me!"

He watched Sapnap's eyes grow wide as he stared tearfully up at him, neither one daring to move, until—

"Oof!" George almost stumbled back in shock as he was suddenly held in a tight embrace, Sapnap's flames fading into the dark. "S-Sap..."

"I-I'm sorry for everything I did against you." Sapnap took a shaky breath. "Everything—Everything I said... It was uncalled for. I s-shouldn't have—shouldn't have acted on my feelings so quickly."

George reached up to hug him back, letting his tears roll down his cheeks. "I'm sorry for running off," he murmured weakly. "They wouldn't have gotten me had I stayed. We've gotten so sidetracked from the quest and—"

"Oh, can you _shut up_ about the quest for once?" Sapnap scowled, hugging him tighter. "I got worried. _Dream_ got worried—if you think he was devastated when I left yesterday, you should've seen how he looked today."

"D-Dream..." George mumbled. "Where is he...?"

"Over there." Sapnap gestured vaguely into the trees. "I'll take you to him. And please, _please_ don't leave us again. I beg of you."

"I won't." Even in the dark, George could still see Sapnap's wobbly smile. He removed his disguise lest Dream attacked him unprompted, and let Sapnap guide him through the forest.

It was surreal. He didn't expect Sapnap to be the first friendly face he'd see after the whole ordeal; but here he was, and they'd made up fairly quickly. Everything was okay now.

_...Right?_

There, in the distance now, was a dark shape resting against a tree, that suddenly stood up once they approached.

"Dream," George called out faintly, and the figure stilled for a second before scrambling over to them.

"G-George," Dream said through choked sobs. "George."

He could hear the exhaustion lacing his friend's words, the desperation, the _worry_ —guilt immediately filled George's chest, and he quickly drew Dream into a tight embrace. The other's arms immediately slipped around his waist, pulling him into a hug more bone-crushing than Sapnap's was. He relished in Dream's warmth, even if the other's weight sagged against him, nearly sending them to the ground.

"Did he touch you?" Dream murmured. "Did he _hurt_ you? Gods, George... I thought you were dead. I—I saw the body and—I... George, I didn't think I'd see you again—" He stumbled over his words as he rambled brokenly against his hair, salty tears rolling down his cheeks. "We were so close by when you got taken away. I thought we'd be too late by then."

"It's okay, Dream," George sighed against his chest, rubbing his back comfortingly. "I'm here now. I escaped, see? I'm here. I'm okay." He suddenly remembered Wilbur's reason for his quick leave, and reluctantly pulled himself away from the other.

"We should go," George urged them, "before Wilbur sees us."

"We were after the _Earl?_ " Sapnap's jaw dropped. "We thought Techno himself got you!"

"Either way, Everial's here, and they're dangerous," George said with a grimace. "He left me saying that he had to _'take care of some guests',_ and knowing him, that can't be anything good."

"You're right, you're right," Dream murmured. "Let's go."

Dream was still leaning against him even as they made their way to the horses, his breath shaky and ragged, as though he had run a mile by himself. George turned to Sapnap for an explanation, and the Pyrokene sighed heavily.

"I don't know if you know what happened with his Pearl—"

"Yes, I'm aware of what happened."

"Well," Sapnap rubbed the back of his neck. "He teleported us, as well as our horses, out of danger. It took a toll on him, and now..."

"I'm _fine,_ " Dream huffed. "Don't worry too much about me."

"You're _exhausted,_ " George told him gently. 

"It's my fault, anyway," Sapnap sighed. "I lit the place on fire without thinking."

Dream shook his head. "Was my decision to teleport us. Not your fault." 

George helped him onto Claudia before mounting the horse himself, riding just behind Sapnap. George's breath hitched when he felt Dream's arms circling around his waist, the other's forehead resting against his hair. The chill of the night air whipped past his face. It felt nice for a moment, Dream clinging onto him as though he would fade away the minute he let go.

They came upon a little hut right next to a swamp, the torches on its walls extinguished, and the inside covered with a thick layer of dust. It seemed well-abandoned, with no trace of any life both inside and outside the place.

"We won't be safe here," Dream mumbled. "Too close. Need t' go."

"You need to sleep, Dream," Sapnap sighed.

"He's right, you know," George murmured, gently stroking Dream's arm. "Wilbur's only human, isn't he?"

"Yeah but—"

"He won't find us here, then."

Dream didn't say a word even as George led him over to a dusty cot laid down on the ground, stuffed with straw and hay. George felt around for a lantern, lighting it up with a faint, purple glow and setting it near the cot.

"We have to move," Dream said again, much quieter this time.

"You have to rest," George said softly, resisting the urge to just _touch_ him. "We can't go while you're like this."

"I'll keep watch outside," Sapnap said.

"Won't you be cold?" George asked, alarmed.

"I can make my own fire," Sapnap replied with a light chuckle. "We should... We should talk tomorrow. No more running away."

"I'm not blaming you for what happened, Sapnap. It wasn't your fault."

Sapnap only smiled. "I know. You're... You're a good man, George. Now get some rest; god knows how bad you need it." He left before George could say anything else, taking a woven mat rolled up against the door before he went.

"George...?" came Dream's sleepy voice, heavily tinged with fatigue.

"I'm here, Dream." George immediately sat down next to him, running a hand through his hair and stroking his scalp gently. "Get some sleep. We'll probably leave early tomorrow."

Dream grabbed his wrist, holding it close to his chest. "George, don't leave me, please," he begged.

George's cheeks flushed brightly. "I won't. I'm here."

For all the exhaustion Dream must've felt, his grip was still quite strong. George had no other choice but to sleep next to him in the small cot, facing him as Dream still had his hand in his own. He carefully removed Dream's mask and his satchel, removing the string from around his head. He laid down the birch thing next to the lantern, and stared at his friend's sleeping face.

Dream looked more peaceful against the purple light than George had ever seen him that week, his lashes resting against freckled cheeks, mouth parted slightly as he breathed. George frowned and thumbed away at the stray tear rolling down his face. Dream shouldn't be sad. He shouldn't be crying because of him. His heart dropped to his stomach at the very thought.

"George..." Dream said softly, his eyes still closed. George's hand stilled on his cheek, heart hammering loudly. "I love you."

George gasped quietly, blinking in shock. A small smile spread across his lips.

_For now, I can pretend he's mine._

"I love you, too," he whispered back, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Dream's ear.

With that, he spent the night pressed against Dream's chest, dreaming sweetly of dances beneath a purple light, warm and safe in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George: Mom said it's my turn to sleep next to Dream (¬_¬)
> 
> Also, ~~Fungi~~ Fundy! The Earl's right hand man.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑


	10. Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Fluffy fluff as an apology for the bitter, bitter angst of chapters past! I also made a [curiouscat,](https://curiouscat.qa/gravitasfallen) so hit me up about things if you want. I may start updating on Friday or the weekends instead of Thursdays too, because of schoolwork!

The birds were chirping quite cheerily that morning. Dream groaned softly, stirring awake. He felt well-rested, invigorated even, despite the coarse mattress against his side. The dull ache in his side had grown much more muted, until he barely felt it at all. As he slowly slipped back into consciousness, he became increasingly aware of the warm presence next to him, pressed against his chest and wrapped around his waist. He opened his eyes to see George, still sleeping next to him, face angelic in the morning light. Their limbs had somehow gotten tangled together overnight, his legs wrapped securely around the other's.

Oh.

Right.

Yesterday, he...

And last night, George...

Dream held him closer, burying his face against the dark locks once more. He'd almost, _almost_ lost George again, and by some miracle, George had managed to escape Everial's clutches yet again. He'd felt so useless, so helpless, when he could've— _should've_ —been able to do something.

He should've been there; maybe he would have been able to prevent it somehow.

George moaned in his sleep, shifting slightly in Dream's arms before blinking blearily up at him through dark lashes, his eyes big and shiny and slightly unfocused. It sent a bright, red blush spreading across his cheeks. _Gods, he's so adorable..._

Dream pushed back some of George's hair against his forehead, and that's when he saw it; an ugly, purple bruise, right on George's temple. That must've been where George was hit when he got knocked out yesterday, just before he got abducted...

Rage coursed through his veins as George slowly came to, gasping softly and pulling himself back. "Dream!" he said hoarsely, clearing his throat. "You're awake!"

Dream gingerly brushed against the bruised area with his fingers, recoiling when George winced a bit. "Did the Earl do this to you?" he whispered, cupping George's face with one hand.

"I'm so sorry, Dream," George murmured guiltily. "I just wanted to keep you safe."

"Oh, my George." Dream pulled him in for another hug, making George let out a small squeak of surprise. "If being safe means never seeing you again, then I'd rather not be." He could feel George's hands resting on his back in turn, warm and shaky. He gripped him tighter. 

"Oh, Dream..." George squeezed him gently.

They stayed like that for a moment, with nary a sound but the distant birdsong outside.

Dream eventually pulled back, smiling faintly at George's rosy cheeks. He sat up for the first time that morning, looking around at their surroundings. The sunlight streaming inside the windows helped, as now he could clearly see that they were in a small apothecary of sorts—that, or the hut of someone who was practicing witchcraft. There were shelves along the walls bearing bottles and jars of who knows what, dried herbs and flowers tied and hung near a wooden workbench, a big cauldron tucked away underneath. A crude bookshelf stood to the side, as dusty as the rest of the place.

"Where are you going?" George asked as Dream moved to stand up.

"You're hurt, George," he replied simply. "I'm going to look for medicine."

"Take me with you," George pouted, holding out his arms. "I know my potions, too."

"Alright," Dream said with a weak chuckle, scooping George into his arms and laughing when he squawked in protest.

"Dream!" George yelped, flushing brightly. "I meant like... help me up or something."

"Well, I've got you now," Dream chirped, setting him down on the wooden surface of the workbench. "Wait here. I'll get you something."

Dream walked over to his satchel, which was lying down next to the cot. He noticed his mask too, as well as the dying purple glow from the lantern. He chuckled, shaking his head, and stowed the mask away. He retrieved the copper spectacles and placed them on George's face, where they belonged.

"We found it on the ground," Dream said quietly, his hands shaking as they returned to his sides. "Right next to someone's body. I—We assumed the worst. I don't... I don't know what I would've done if it turned out to be you."

George's face fell. "Liz..." he murmured. "I didn't even have the time to mourn her. And now she's just... _gone._ "

"Were you close?" Dream asked tentatively.

"She was like a sister to me," George replied somberly. "She kept me company during my... my imprisonment." His lips quirked up momentarily at a memory. "She was always trying to get me to improve my powers— _heh_ —if only she could see me now."

"I'm sure she's very proud of how far you've come, George," Dream said softly, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. "She sounds like a wonderful person."

"She is." George was smiling now, small and feeble. "Perhaps I could burn something in her honor."

"Was there anything she was fond of?"

George thought for a moment, before responding, "Lavenders."

They perused the shelves for the flower, eventually finding some, which George immediately held in his hands. He whispered a quick, solemn prayer before lighting a small flame in his hands and watching it dance around the petals. As they watched the lavender burn away into ashes, George let it take with it his heavy sorrows, the burden lifting up from his shoulders. He immediately felt at ease afterwards, heaving a small sigh.

"Better?" Dream asked as George swung his legs against the workbench.

He nodded. "We should... We _could_ try brewing some medicine, if there aren't any here."

"Just tell me what you need, George," Dream said. "I'll get the cauldron ready."

George spotted an iron stand by the corner, sending a quick stream of fire around the base. Dream turned to smile at him before setting the small cauldron down onto it. George rifled through the cupboards, spotting bottles of unfermented beer— _wort,_ they were called—as well as honey mead. He took one in his hand, glancing back and forth towards the cauldron. _This would be enough for about six vials,_ he thought, humming to himself. _Now to see if there are spares in here..._

"Hey, George!" Dream ran over to him, handing him a red bottle. "This is for healing, right?"

George's eyes lit up. "Yeah!" he said enthusiastically. "Wait—Sapnap needs some of these too. These herbs will do! And melon... Do we have some...?"

"Oh! I think these are—"

George almost jolted as their hands met, reaching for the same bundle of yellow flowers. He hid his nervous giggles with a cough, handing Dream the bottle of wort as well as the other herbs in his possession. "Just place these together in the cauldron," he said, willing down the blush in his cheeks. "Um... and some rose petals too, if we have them. That'll make it a nice red, I think."

"Okay," Dream said softly. "We'll wait for it to boil, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Got it. Take that potion, too. For your bruises."

He watched as Dream mixed the ingredients together in the cauldron, looking focused. It sent a warm thrill through his heart, even as he gulped down the red liquid, leaving a pleasant tingle through his body. It wasn't quite like Sapnap's, whose potions were made of fumes, rather than liquid.

Dream was quick to return to his side. "Your bruising's gone," he said, inspecting George's temple. "That's good. Speaking of Sapnap, where _is_ he?"

"He said he'll be keeping watch outside," George said, frowning. "We should probably go soon." He moved to hop off the workbench when Dream stopped him, placing a hand on either side of his hips, right on the table, keeping him in place.

"George," Dream said quietly. "Everything that happened last night made me realize a lot of things."

"D-Dream—"

"I... I can't lie to myself any longer... nor do I want Sapnap to stop me from doing this, but..." Dream stared into his eyes, green meeting brown, and breathed out his confession.

"I want you to know that I'm in love with you, George."

There was something freeing about finally saying it, letting the words loose on his lips, instead of burying it down in his chest and desperately hoping that George would somehow _know_ the weight of his affection.

"I have loved you since the day we met," he continued sincerely. "You were the reason I kept coming back. The reason I wanted to live." He searched George's eyes for any hint of repulsion, of rejection, and lowered his head. "I can... I can pretend that I don't want you if you ask me to."

George's soft hands cupping his cheeks came as a surprise to him. "Now, why would I want that?" he murmured, smiling warmly at him. "I've always loved you too, Dream... for the longest time now."

Dream let out a surprised noise. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." George squished his cheeks lightly. "So if you're just playing with my feelings right now, I'll be very upset."

"Never," Dream whispered tenderly, and George knew it to be true. "Not about these things. I love you, George."

A giddy little giggle spilled forth from George's lips. "I love you too, Dream," he whispered back. "I never let myself think that you'd feel the same way, and now..."

Their faces had gotten so close, close enough for Dream to see himself reflected in George's dark, warm eyes, close enough for him to feel his shuddering breath against his chin.

"May I kiss you?" Dream whispered.

And George pulled him closer in response, their lips slotting together perfectly, as though they made for each other, destined to meet. George's lips were as soft and sweet as Dream imagined they'd be, more so than when they'd first made love several nights ago.

George sighed blissfully, pulling back for a second—or _half,_ rather—before diving back in for more. He let his hands wander over to Dream's hair, tugging at the soft, dirty blond locks. His legs wrapped themselves around Dream's back, locking them close together as the workbench creaked and protested against their weight. Dream let out a low groan, pulling back to mouth against George's jaw, nearly pushing him against the wall.

"Dream!" George let out a breathless giggle, legs tightening around Dream's body. The latter pulled back for a moment to admire him; his pretty cheeks flushed, and his red lips swollen and slick from their lengthy liplock. Dream chuckled and placed another soft kiss on his lips before moving to his neck, nosing at the pale expanse of skin.

"All this time," he rasped, "I could've been free to do this... How long, George?"

"Mmm, your second... maybe, _third_ visit—a-ah! Dream, don't—" George pulled Dream's head back, the other's eyes wide with guilt. "Sapnap might... might see." He cast his gaze downwards, a little apologetic. "I don't want him to get upset again."

"I understand. I'm sorry." Dream kissed the spot he'd nipped at. "But even he can't stop me from loving you. Not when I've had a little taste."

"You've already had more than a _little_ taste..." George mumbled quietly, but Dream picked up on it anyway, chuckling lightly. He watched as George turned even redder, trying to hide a pleased smile.

"Can't wait to have another, too," Dream purred lowly into his ear.

"O-Oh! W-We really should be going!" George stammered, unhooking his legs from around the other. Dream laughed brightly and gave him space to move. "The potion! Don't forget it!"

"Ah, crap, you're right!" In the soft, hazy glow of the moment, he'd completely forgotten about the brew, already bubbling to the surface. George was quick to bottle it up, handing a couple of vials to Dream to store in his satchel.

"Dream, we can't hide this forever," George said quietly.

"I know," Dream sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But losing you isn't a choice either."

George reached up to kiss him again, light and chaste but no less adoring. "Well, I've waited this long," he murmured. 

Dream laughed and squeezed his hand before pulling back to put on his mask. "You ready?"

"With you, always."

* * *

Sapnap was sitting by a crackling campfire a few more paces away from the swamp. He greeted them with a cheerful wave as soon as he saw them, his smile tired but still bright.

"Hey!" he called. "Didn't think you two would be up so soon."

"We were actually up a bit earlier," George said, handing him two of the vials. "Spent some time brewing... I hope you don't mind that it's all liquid rather than um... smoky."

"It's fine," Sapnap dismissed his concerns. "As long as it gets the job done, I really don't care."

"You seem like you're in an awfully good mood today," Dream mused, chuckling. "Not that it's a bad thing."

Sapnap shrugged. "George's back, we've got good trout, and there's a river not very far from here. We can go there after breakfast just before we reach Cacitine."

"How far are we from Cacitine, anyway?" Dream thought aloud, pulling out the map from his satchel.

"Wait, why did you look for trout?" George asked. "I thought we had enough food from when we went fishing before."

"About that..." Sapnap exchanged a sheepish look with Dream. "We... We left most of our supplies behind when we went looking for you. The tents, the fish..."

"Your axe..." Dream mumbled.

"Oh..." George frowned. "That can be replaced, but... I'm sorry for leaving in the first place." He rubbed his arm nervously. "I was being rash. I should've thought it through."

"No," Sapnap said firmly. "It wasn't your fault at all. I let my jealousy take over me and... I was being an ass to you, when you didn't deserve it." He swallowed down his pride and forced himself to look George in the eye. "You were right; I was putting too much pressure on you. I'm sorry, George."

"There's nothing to forgive," George replied with a shaky smile. Sapnap let out a relieved exhale. "In fact, why don't we continue training? We could go to the river later and try casting a flame then."

"Are you sure?" Sapnap asked hesitantly. "It didn't end well last time we tried."

George nodded. "I'm at least a little more prepared now, instead of suddenly being thrown into it."

"Sorry."

"You don't have to be."

They made quick work of their trout, with Sapnap and George making idle conversation as Dream tried to pinpoint their coordinates onto the map.

"Okay, listen," Sapnap began through a mouthful of fish, "I think an important part to creating fire even when soaked in water is to try and grasp the air within it."

"It's always the air with you, isn't it?" George said lightly.

Sapnap rolled his eyes. "We Pyrokenes tend to focus on the mechanical aspect of things, I noticed," he said. "Besides, when you smother fire, it dies, right? Clearly, air must be very important to let it grow."

"But when you're all... _waterlogged...?_ "

Sapnap thought for a moment. "Imagine... bubbles."

"Okay...?"

"Bubbles have air trapped inside them, right? If you could manage to free that air, you could have some fuel for your fire." Sapnap shrugged. "Or whatever works for you, I guess. I think you'd be good if you could get your hands dry, at least."

"We'll see at the river then, won't we?" George shot him a bright smile.

"Hey, Sapnap, which river are you talking about here?" Dream called. 

The other man peered over the map, pointing a few ways from a spot that Dream had marked. "Wilbur's camp is over _here,_ so the river I went to earlier is over... here. Straight on ahead, no twists and turns necessary."

"If we follow this then, we'd be able to reach Cacitine today," Dream mumbled. "It's much quicker than the main road, although this route's not usually anyone's first choice."

"It might be because of the trees," George piped up. "Too clumped. Horses and carriages would have a terrible time attempting to navigate these."

"Maybe," Dream mused, and then his brows furrowed. "Sapnap...?"

"Hmm?" 

"How'd you know where Wilbur's camp was?"

"That's where I bumped into George yesterday," Sapnap replied calmly. "I figured it had to be close by since he wasn't riding a horse."

Dream chewed on his lip. "Oh. Okay, then. So we're off to the river, then straight to Cacitine?"

"It won't take longer than a couple of hours," George said, lightly touching Dream's arm. "Sapnap can just drag me out, won't you?"

"Sure," Sapnap replied with a lazy grin. "Don't get too frustrated when I end up kicking your ass a few minutes in."

"Minutes?" Dream snickered.

"Seconds, then!"

* * *

The river wasn't very far from the swamp, all clean and crisp and perfect for a little sparring match; the currents weren't too overpowering, the water just sweet.

"How do you want to do this?" Dream asked.

George handed Dream his spectacles before he waded in the river, the water reaching up to his knees. He quickly submerged himself underwater before standing back up, soaked head to toe, laughing as he pushed back the hair plastered against his forehead.

"You almost scared the shit out of me," Sapnap laughed.

George snorted. "Okay, I'm soaked." 

He tried to push the warmth back into his fingers, keeping Sapnap's advice in mind. Concentrating on pulling the air from the water drops, he managed to do it with ease, stoking the flame within him and causing a small fire to curl onto his palms.

"You did it!" Sapnap exclaimed, while Dream beamed at him with pride.

George used the flame to dry off his upper half, and summoned an even greater one. He watched it dance around him before extinguishing into nothingness. He turned to Sapnap, eyes sparkling. "Care for a match?"

"You can use your blade while George tries his fire," Dream mused. "You're weak to the water too, aren't you?"

"That's fair," Sapnap replied, his arm already turning into gleaming gold. "Don't hold back, George, we've got health potions to spare."

"I won't if you promise not to, either," George replied with a grin. Dream watched as they sparred, Sapnap's scythe swinging in the air as George covered himself in a wall of purple flame.

"How did you do that?" Sapnap gaped, trying to breach his defenses with a flame of his own.

George shrugged, smiling cockily. "There's a lot of air up here," he quipped. "Lots of fuel, remember?"

"I can fix that," Dream said slyly, jumping into the water and sending a large wave crashing over him.

"Dream!" George cried, his wall of fire dissipating into smoke. 

Sapnap howled in laughter until Dream splashed him too, leaving him sputtering in indignation. "Oi!"

"Think you can take me on?" Dream laughed.

"Wrong words, Ender boy," Sapnap said with a smirk, as George started drying his hands up.

Dream's eyes darted around for a large, wooden branch to defend himself with, just in time to parry Sapnap's blows. George sent tiny bursts of flame towards Dream, taking care not to aim for anything particularly fatal. Sapnap panted as he caught his breath, unable to hold his blade for longer, and the Ender took that opportunity to send him falling back into the river, kicking his legs from under him. Dream laughed as he raised his stick, intending to tap Sapnap with it.

"George, now!"

Dream yelped in shock as the stick was suddenly wrenched from his grip and placed around his throat, locking him in place.

"Yield!" George said, bringing his hand over Dream's face.

"I surrender!" Dream replied quickly.

Had it been an enemy, George would've had to melt their face off, which wouldn't be quite pleasant for either party.

"Boo, you're so bad at this!" Sapnap cackled. "The great Dream, defeated by a hand and a stick."

"Oh, shut up." Dream rolled his eyes and grabbed the stick back from George, who made a noise of surprise. "You know I could've teleported away if I wanted to. I was just taking it easy on you two."

"You're just _scared_ of us fire-users," George teased. Dream fixed him with an amused stare, and George tried to push back the red flush creeping up his cheeks.

"Oh _come on._ That's ridiculous," Dream sniped back, turning to help Sapnap up. "But I must admit, the two of you have grown significantly better. Flames and blades alike."

"Now it's _your_ turn to get to our level," Sapnap said, puffing up with pride.

Dream laughed. "I'm already way past you two. I think I can handle a few more feet for my Eye's radius."

"Then I'm proud of you, too," George said, and Dream shot him a soft smile. "Should we keep going?"

"We should," Sapnap affirmed. "The afternoon heat is going to be _annoying;_ glad we could get to cool off for a bit."

"Then let's go," Dream said, heading back to their horses. He shared a quiet look with George before he got on next to him, like they always have before. _They'll be able to express their love soon. Maybe not now, but_ soon. 

_And he couldn't wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever think of grabbing your best mate and snogging them senseless all over a crafting bench? Yeah.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑  
> Don't forget to hit subscribe so you can get notified through email with each new update!


	11. Cacitine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Why is this so long but take it, I guess. I like it when I see some of my favorite creators appearing on others' fics, but I realized I haven't been doing much cameos on mine haha oof so here you go! (— ∇ — ;;)
> 
> Head empty except for "Kingdom Dance" from Tangled, yes.

Cacitine was a coastal town, right on the boundary of a desert and the Ceriseule Ocean. It was one of the oldest cities in the area, protected by large walls of brick and sandstone. It had fallen victim to many wars over the years, until it was taken possession by the kingdom of Hypssen a few ways across the ocean. The Great Decay had barely laid its withered finger onto it, as it was mostly void of vegetation. As such, now it was a valuable port, an area of trade and commerce, where different cultures mixed and mingled with each other.

The group had managed to reach the city gates in the middle of the afternoon, the sun bearing down on their backs harshly and without mercy.

"We're almost there," George said soothingly against Dream's back.

The Ender had been complaining about the intense heat, voicing out thoughts to just _teleport and be done with it, I'm so tired, it's so hot out here,_ but George and Sapnap reminded him about yesterday's fiasco where a mere five-meter jump immediately sapped him of his energy.

Dream mumbled quietly in response, tugging the hood of his cloak further down onto his head.

The solemn-faced guards at the entrance let them pass with no trouble, dressed in chainmail and white surcoats. They exchanged a small, respectful nod before the three went on their way towards an inn. Dream paid the innkeeper a couple of gold pieces and immediately headed to bed, flopping onto the cotton sheets.

"Wake me up in a few hours," he mumbled into the pillow. "You two go do whatever you want; I'm not leaving until it's a little colder."

"Aww, poor boy," George said with a playful smirk. "Can't take the heat?" Dream pretended to snore loudly in reply, making him laugh.

Sapnap rolled his eyes and grabbed George by the arm. "Let's leave him be. Come on." He gave Sketch a farewell pat on the nose before heading off with George in tow.

"Anything we're supposed to be looking for?" George quipped.

"We'll need some food and supplies," Sapnap said. "A blade for you, and some arrows for Dream."

"And you?" George asked.

"We'll see." Sapnap replied. "Towns like these have lots of bazaars and markets to choose from. Maybe something here will catch my eye."

"A little sightseeing then," George mused. "Dream's missing out."

Sapnap cracked a grin. "He shouldn't be such a big baby then."

"All he has to do is just bear the heat." George shook his head, his lips curling into a smile. "It's so easy, honestly."

That got Sapnap to laugh, wiping a tear from his eye. "Yeah," he chuckled. "I can't imagine why he just _can't._ "

"Unthinkable," George agreed in jest, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Sapnap turned his gaze towards the buildings of mud brick, and the raucous excitement at the city center. _There's some sort of performance,_ he thought, seeing a magician seemingly pull a red cloth out of thin air. It caught on fire, before turning into a white dove.

"Magic," George observed.

"It's not that impressive," Sapnap scoffed. "Even I can make a fireball quicker than he did."

George hummed as they continued walking. "Do you think he's one of us?" He glanced around for any eavesdroppers. "A _halfling?_ "

Sapnap shrugged. "Possibly. Some towns are more accepting of the supernatural. I'm not quite sure of Cacitine though."

"Well, they don't seem to shun magic, given that he could perform freely in the open." George paused for a moment. "Did... Did you and Dream pass by such towns before?"

"Oh, yeah!" Sapnap grinned at the memory. "We've gone to Fithusyne—my hometown, of course—and there's also Betrede, Euthys, and Eppelage, among others."

"Most of those are in Invidel," George murmured. "Bad must really have such a great influence over the King, huh?"

"Well, I doubt most people know he's one of us." Sapnap took another cautious glance. "But I reckon we'd be safe in Eppelage at least; while it's in Invidel's hands, they can't do much to it because of some past treaty they'd signed."

"And Invidel adheres to it because...?"

Sapnap shrugged. "Beats me. Some say Eppelage saved the royal family. Others claim it was too powerful a force to be reckoned with. Either way, it's protected, and it's our best bet to settle in..." He hesitated for a bit. "Or not. I don't know."

"I'll be quite sad if we all split up, in the end," George said quietly. "Things wouldn't be the same."

Sapnap gave him a wry smile. "It won't be," he conceded. "I don't think we'll be very far from each other, even after all this. I'll go as far as to say I'm getting a little bit attached to my protégé."

"Aww," George cooed, "I'll miss you too, Sapnap."

Sapnap made a disgusted face. "Ugh. You know what? I take it back."

George laughed, and so did he. _Okay, maybe he really wasn't that bad after all._

They'd walked so far that Sapnap didn't even notice that they were approaching the coast, seeing all the people by the boardwalk, departing passengers and new arrivals alike. The smell of sea salt hung in the air, and with it the scent of rum and spices from the merchants' cargo.

"How will we get to the island?" George suddenly asked. "Dream can't possibly do all the work, can he?"

Sapnap's brows furrowed for a moment. "I think he has a plan," he said, a bit unsurely. "We could just ask him later."

"So... we look for the supplies then?"

"Yeah. We should head back to the city center." Sapnap turned to see George staring intently at one of the stands, looking confused. "George?"

"Hmm?" The Dragonborn shook his head. "I'm fine. I thought I saw something but... nevermind."

"What did you see?" Sapnap asked uneasily.

"Just a bird," George chuckled. "Maybe it was the magician's dove."

"You scared me," Sapnap sighed, clutching his chest dramatically. "I thought you were going to say—" _Wilbur. Technoblade. BadBoyHalo._ "—a pillager, or something."

"Oh, don't remind me," George said, cringing. "Evil bastards."

* * *

The rest of the walk back to the center was quieter, but at least the tension had been diffused. Needless to say, both of them had been surprised when they caught sight of a man in a familiar green cloak perusing the market stalls.

"Oi! I thought you were asleep!" Sapnap called out.

Dream jumped, drawing his hands back to himself. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Couldn't sleep."

"Why?" George tilted his head curiously. "It's not because of the heat is it?"

Dream chuckled slightly. "No, er, I think I just got hungry."

"Oh." Sapnap pursed his lips, a bit suspicious. "Well, we were about to look for food anyway."

"And supplies," George added. "Can't keep that quiver empty now, can we?"

Dream's eyes suddenly lit up. "Why don't you look for food this time George?" he suggested, "since it's usually Sapnap's job."

George's eyes roved over to the stands, where he could already see a variety of meats and treats being sold. "Alright. I'm fine with that. Sapnap's on supplies, then?"

"Sure. Why don't you go with him, Dream?" Sapnap asked. "Didn't you say you were hungry?"

"And let you pick my arrows for me?" Dream scoffed. "No way."

George's brows furrowed. "Hey, Sap promised me a blade, too."

"Don't worry, Georgie," Dream said, with the other flushing slightly at the nickname, "I know your type. Your weapon's in good hands."

George pouted, and Dream squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. Sapnap would be remiss if he said that he didn't catch the softness in their expressions, never mind that Dream's face was still covered by his mask.

"Okay," George sighed in a resigned tone. "I trust you. We'll meet up here again afterwards?"

"Sounds good," Dream agreed. His eyes met Sapnap's for a moment and they widened by a fraction, and his shoulders tensed for a second. Sapnap decided to ignore his behavior for a while, even as George bid them goodbye and made a beeline towards an array of smoked meats.

Sapnap chose to examine a caravan selling potions of different kinds ("local brews", the seller had called them; but he would recognize those red fumes anywhere, and that glowing purple bottle looked _suspiciously_ like Dragon's Breath). The man in the red mask offered him a couple of fire resistance potions for a bit of coin, but he'd turned him down anyway.

On the way to the fletcher's stand, he came across Dream, who was now holding a couple of arrows more in his quiver.

"I... I think we should talk," Dream said quietly. "It's why I sent George off anyway."

"Sure." They continued walking towards another merchant's stall. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm really, _really_ sorry for blowing up at you the other day," Dream murmured. "And yesterday, too. I got upset that you were jealous over George, but I shouldn't have been a dick about it."

"Hey, no worries, man," Sapnap chuckled. "I wasn't exactly blameless either; I was being a piece of shit to him. It's not a crime to love and be loved by you, and, uh, I've thought about it for a while and..." He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he pondered his next words carefully. 

"...I've decided I won't get in the way of you and George anymore."

Dream stopped in his tracks. "...Huh?"

"Dream, I'm not blind," he says, rolling his eyes. "I could clearly see how your moods shifted yesterday, right as you left the hut."

"So you knew...?" Dream asked, his voice faint. "I—I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Sapnap's expression softened. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for. I just want you to be happy. If he's the one who could get you to smile like that then... who am I to get in the way of that?"

Dream managed a small smile. "You're a good friend, Sap."

Sapnap grinned. "That's a title I'm willing to defend. So, is that why you were acting so weird this whole time?"

"Yeah." Dream fiddled with the strap of his satchel. "We were afraid that you'd be upset again."

"You have it in good faith that I won't be."

They reached a weaponsmith's stall (a crude sign making it out to be someone named Punz's), selling various bladed weapons of different shapes and sizes, ranging from smooth stone to gleaming steel. Dream examined a knife carved from obsidian and wood, admiring the way it caught the sunlight.

"That won't last very long," Sapnap informed him.

"I know," Dream sighed, setting it down.

"If durability's what you seek, I've got quite a selection for ya," the weaponsmith, who they assumed to be Punz, chimed. He opened another box under the table, showing an array of daggers, both simple and ornate. Dream and Sapnap each examined one, with the smith hovering over their backs.

"Titanium alloy, lightweight and durable."

"Ah, Wootz, that would be a bit more expensive, yes? It's a fine blade, that one; cuts better than iron."

"What about this?" Dream asked, holding up one dagger. It had a pale, icy sheen to it, the blade fine and tapered to a point. Its handle was fashioned from obsidian and some type of wood as blue as though dyed with woad, the grain running curved as if it had grown gnarled and twisted through the ages.

"That one is quite a beauty," the weaponsmith said proudly. "Vexite steel and warped wood; finding such things was very difficult, you see? Word goes around that Vexite steel never corrodes even with water."

"Powerful stuff," Sapnap said, letting out a low whistle.

"It's going to cost you," Punz admitted. "That one's the last of its kind, _and_ with all the features I mentioned, it's for a good reason too."

"I don't mind," Dream replied, handing him fifteen gold pieces.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya," he said, giving him a lazy salute.

"Vexite steel makes the strongest blade?" Sapnap asked, rubbing his arm subconsciously.

Punz hummed thoughtfully. "There's also the stuff of legend, but even _I'm_ skeptical of that myth."

"Tell it anyway," Dream said, tucking the dagger away in its leather sheath.

"Netherite. Dark alloys from ancient debris, infused with magic as old and strong as the Moors itself." Punz shook his head and barked out a laugh. "Barren old thing, that place. Hard to believe anything came from there, but here we are. In these trying times, we all have to do what we can to get by, yeah?"

"Yeah," Dream replied. "Thank you for your time." 

Not long after they left the stall, Dream stopped again, his Eye catching something in the distance.

"What is it?" Sapnap asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I..." Dream hesitated. "I'm not sure if I should be telling you this right now—"

"Does it involve George?"

Dream's mouth dropped open, before he swiftly closed it. "Yes," he admitted. "I'm planning to court him. I was going to give him something else, but with this dagger... I fear it may be too much."

"You may be the only person I know who questions showering their lover in gifts," Sapnap chuckled. "Skimping out on Georgie, are we?

"It's not that I'm _stingy,_ " Dream snorted. "I'm just afraid of overwhelming him." A soft, faraway look settled on his features. "He's a little more simple than that—more sophisticated—yet I want nothing more than to spoil him rotten."

"Then why not go for it?" Sapnap encouraged him. "You already know how much he loves you; if you asked him to marry you this instant, I won't be surprised if he says yes."

Dream turned red. "Would you go with me to the stall, then? Or would you rather—"

"As if you had to ask!" Sapnap laughed. "Lead the way, lover boy."

Dream laughed as they made their way to a pavilion a few ways away, much closer to the port that Sapnap and George had visited earlier. There were much more foreign merchants there, dressed in peculiar clothing, bearing goods from faraway lands.

"What can I do for you today?" the seller chirped, tipping his black visor slightly. 

"Have you decided on what to give him yet?" Sapnap asked, scoffing when Dream shook his head. "Your first courtship, and you aren't even prepared?"

"Ah, a gift for your beloved?" the man said with a smile. Dream's ears burned at the tips, flustered. "The name's Eret, pleased to make your acquaintance. I've got a selection of items that might strike your fancy."

He held up a small crate of potted plants, each one bearing a flower, both exotic and common. "The finest flora Mautia has to offer." Dream could recognize the red roses and the purple sprigs of heather, the powdery bluebells and some trumpet-like blooms in hues of violet and yellow.

"While lovely, I don't think George would find much use for flowers," Dream murmured.

"Something more long-lasting then?" Eret said kindly, taking another box, this time bearing different kinds of jewelry. "Take your pick."

Sapnap let his eyes wander over the ostentatious pieces of finery, some made from gold and silver, inlaid with pearls and jewels of different kinds. He wondered how Eret managed to acquire such things, or how he hasn't been robbed blind yet.

"How much for this one?" Dream asked, reaching out towards a necklace with a leather cord. A crystal pendant hung from it, a deep purple, almost like an amethyst.

"Interesting choice, gentlemen." Eret's voice took on an amused tone, as if he knew something they didn't. "A couple of coins would do."

Dream handed him his fee, and bid him goodbye. As he and Sapnap made their way back to their meeting place, the latter couldn't help but sate his curiosity.

"Out of all those," Sapnap began, "why that one?"

"I already told you that George likes simple things," Dream replied, chuckling as he held it up to the sun. "Besides, I felt drawn to it. It's good to go along with what your gut says, I believe." There were some markings along the crystal, in the facets that weren't affected by the small, white outgrowth on its borders.

"You're a sentimental sap, Dream," Sapnap decided, eliciting a laugh from the other.

Dream had tucked it away just in time when George appeared, looking particularly sheepish, a bag slung over his shoulder.

"You two were gone for so long," he mumbled faintly. "And I got hungry."

"We're bringing all of that?" Sapnap eyed the bag, mouth open.

"We don't _have_ to," Dream replied. "We could eat some of it right now at the inn."

"Oh, good," George said, relieved. "I'm _famished._ "

"As am I," Sapnap added. "What's in the bag, George?"

* * *

It turned out that George had splurged a bit on their food, thanks to the bag of gold that Dream had given him what seemed like ages ago. On their meager table lay sweet pumpkin tarts spiced with cinnamon and cream, as well as some mutton and beef, roasted with herbs and skewered along with some vegetables. George had also gotten his hands on a bottle of hypocras, much to Sapnap's delight.

"I've also got some berry preserves and dried meats," George said, "for the road."

"We should let you be in charge of food all the time," Sapnap said, holding up some mutton.

"You're just tired of fishing," Dream snickered, swiping another tart.

George laughed, before sobering up. "It's not just because I was hungry," he said softly. "This is our last day on land; we'll be travelling the Ceriseule ocean by tomorrow, won't we? We've got to celebrate, at least."

"And how are you planning to do that?" Dream said in a low tone.

George suppressed the shiver running up his spine. "With a feast of course," he huffed, shooting nervous glances towards Sapnap. 

_Right,_ the Pyrokene thought, eyes widening in realization, _I haven't told him yet._

"Hey, uh," Sapnap began, clearing his throat. "Dream already knows this, but I wouldn't be opposed anymore if you two decided to get together."

"Really?" George eyed him in surprise, a hopeful lilt in his tone. Sapnap's heart ached, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.

It was the least he could do for all the trouble he caused.

"Yeah, man," he said with a grin, reaching out towards George and punching him lightly on the shoulder. "In fact... don't you have something to say, Dream?"

Dream coughed before clearing his throat. "I'm asking permission to court you, George, if you'll have me," he said quietly, his cheeks rosy beneath the mask. "When I was going to return to Founetter, I was planning to ask your family, too, just before we left—or stayed, whichever you wanted more."

"Oh, Dream," George whispered, reaching out to lace their fingers together. "I'll gladly allow that."

Sapnap huffed out a chuckle. "It's about time."

Dream let out a breathless laugh, and George quirked an eyebrow up at him. "What? You thought I was going to reject you?"

"Maybe," Dream replied, thumbing along George's hand.

"You're an idiot," George snorted, before giving Dream's hand an affectionate squeeze. 

"But you love me anyway," Dream said, a smug grin on his lips.

"I still think you're way past courting by now," Sapnap laughed. "You've been doing things all out of order."

"Oh come on," Dream replied, rolling his eyes. "If we were, then we should already be married by now." That got him a giggle from George, as well as the pleasure of seeing him turn pink. "Besides, it's a great reason for me to give him things like these." He reluctantly pulled his hand away and went over to his beloved, clasping the necklace he'd bought around his neck, fingers brushing lightly against his skin.

"It's a beautiful present," George said, almost shyly. He thumbed along the small divots in the crystal faces before tucking it into his shirt. "Thank you, Dream."

"And your dagger," Dream said, handing him the sheathed blade.

"Oh!" George examined it against the light, his mouth agape with shock. His eyes ran along the steel, a smile forming on his face. "It's blue," he said softly.

"Told you I know your type," Dream said, beaming.

"Blond adventurers that are taller than me?" George teased, tying the scabbard around his waist.

"Sharp, with a tip over six and a half inches long," the Ender sniped back, causing George to blush furiously.

"I'm still here, you know," Sapnap coughed. Dream and George had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "Well, looks like we've got something else to celebrate before we leave."

"Aren't you glad I got the hypocras, then?" George giggled, opening up the bottle and pouring each of them another cup of the spiced wine. They cheered and clinked their cups together, about to take a sip when a sudden commotion outside their door interrupted them.

"I beg of you, just one night, _please!_ "

George's blood ran cold in his veins. _We've still got three days. Why is_ he _here?_

"Please, sir, the inn is full"—came the innkeeper's alarmed voice—"but we'd love to help, yet—"

Dream opened the door, to George and Sapnap's surprise. There in the hall, stood a familiar man, disheveled, covered in crimson and bearing a body in his arms. The Duke of Montessy was no longer an intimidating presence; rather, he'd never looked so vulnerable in his life.

"Bring him in," Dream said coldly. The innkeeper was taken aback, and almost said something in protest when the Ender raised his hand to stop him. "The three of us are leaving tonight, anyway. They can have half of our payment." Bad shot him a teary, grateful smile before entering the room, setting the body down on one of the beds.

"Is that—" Sapnap whispered in alarm.

"I think—" George mumbled.

"It's okay, Skeppy," Bad murmured tearfully, ignoring them. "Everything's going to be fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft, but also, pain. PDA is real.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑  
> BTW I've got a **[CC](https://curiouscat.qa/gravitasfallen)** now, if you wanna talk! (＾∇＾)


	12. Invidel's Indomitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Welcome to the SkepHalo chapter ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ Forgive my attempt at banter!
> 
> Have you guys heard of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham? Yeah, same energy.
> 
> Warnings for violence/gore!

Sure enough, it was the King of Invidel himself who was lying on their meager bed. Blood stained the cotton sheets from his many wounds, inflicted by both blades and arrows; it was a miracle that he was still alive, chest rising and falling _very_ slowly. BadBoyHalo kneeled by his side, trembling and holding his hand as though letting go would mean immediate death.

And from the looks of it, he wasn't very far behind.

"Here," George said immediately, handing him one of the health potions. 

"What is that?" Bad asked, looking at the contents suspiciously.

"A strong medicine, essentially," George mumbled. "It'll help." Bad was surprised, but brought it to Skeppy's lips anyway, watching as it slowly healed up his injuries. "It might not be enough."

"Thank you, nonetheless," Bad replied in a frail whisper. He wasn't looking his best either, all scraped and bruised. George wanted to offer another vial to him, but hesitated.

_He's the one who put us in this situation in the first place, remember?_

Instead, Bad reached out for a cup that lay forgotten on a table, taking a long sip and started nursing his wounds. He returned to Skeppy's side and pressed the king's hand to his face, hiccupping every so often.

"What are you doing here?" Dream said quietly. "Our time isn't up yet."

"We were found," Bad replied hoarsely. George distantly remembered Liz's words, a few moments after they'd met again.

_"They've found Invidel's camp a few hours after the attack in the castle. The Red Duke's, I believe. The Duke of Montessy?"_

"Start explaining," Sapnap said. "You're already here, and you're outnumbered. We don't have to go just yet."

Bad swallowed thickly and nodded. "Okay," he murmured. "It wasn't long after you'd left our camp..."

* * *

Four nights ago, Bad watched as they hurriedly mounted their horses, riding off into the night, much to the confusion of the other knights.

"I don't understand," said one, mouth agape. "Shouldn't we be taking them to Invidel?"

"Change of plans," Bad replied confidently. "We might be able to finish things a bit earlier than expected."

He then rounded up his army, intending on giving the three a day before following closely. After all, while his redstone tether had its uses, he couldn't risk letting them get too far away and sending him on a wild goose chase. That Dream fellow was especially hostile towards him too—he wouldn't put it past him to try such a scheme.

"I would only need a few select men," Bad said. "The rest of you can go back to Invidel; it's much too risky a voyage." Once he'd made his selection and paid off his mercenaries, he headed back inside his tent to strategize, poring over the map on his table. Now, which of these roads would they take towards the Moors? The closest port would be in Cacitine, or mayhaps the one in Gomodara—

A cough interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes?" Bad asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your Grace, what about me?" the knight asked as he shuffled from one foot to another. His voice was muffled under the helmet, yet it seemed a little familiar...

"You are dismissed," Bad replied. He didn't want to deal with it right now, not when he had so much to plan and do. "You may go home if you wish."

" _Bad,_ " the knight insisted firmly. "What about _me?_ " He pushed up his visor, revealing a familiar set of eyes that almost had Bad reeling in shock.

"Skeppy!" the duke hissed through gritted teeth. "You muffinhead—what are you doing here?!"

"I couldn't leave you alone in this horrible place, my love." Skeppy removed his helmet, setting it on Bad's cot. "Not with that Technoblade so close to you."

"Skeppy," Bad sighed, cupping his cheek warmly, his mouth still set in a grim line. "It's much too dangerous for you to be here."

"That means you're in danger too," Skeppy whispered, leaning closer onto Bad's palm. "I can't possibly sleep soundly in the castle knowing you could've _died_ here."

"If _you_ die here, Invidel will crash to the ground." Bad bristled at the thought. "Everything you've worked for will be gone."

"Invidel's in capable hands." Skeppy took the other's hands in his, thumbing at the bare skin even through the iron gauntlet. Bad frowned at the hurt expression on his face. "It's not the first time you've sneaked off, too, you know. I've missed you. Come home with me, please?"

Bad sighed. "You know I can't."

"Then I'll just stay here with you."

"Skeppy, no—"

"As your King, that's an order." Skeppy's voice took on an authoritative tone. "Let me stay."

A brief shiver went up Bad's spine, before he swallowed thickly and replied with a quiet _"yes sir."_

Skeppy quirked an eyebrow. "I see you've missed me too."

"I've never stopped thinking of you," Bad said softly, squeezing the other's hands. "I... I know you've got your duties, and we can't keep doing this, but—"

"Hush, my dove." Skeppy kissed his forehead. "To hell with my duties—I don't need nobody else but you. I wish my parents could see that."

"But you'll need strong ties to other kingdoms," Bad whispered tearfully. "Foreign alliances for the good of Invidel. You need _heirs,_ Skeppy. I can't give you that. I'm not even from a noble family."

He'd never expected that a chance encounter during a hunt would lead him to rise through the ranks of Skeppy's court; yet here he was, deeply, utterly enamoured with his king despite knowing it could all disappear in a flash. The rest of the nobles were cold to him at first, but even they couldn't deny the ingenuity of his strategizing.

"I don't care," Skeppy echoed, planting kisses on his cheeks and on his nose. "I love _you._ " He lifted Bad's hands up to his lips and gave them a long, lingering kiss. "I love you so much, Bad, it's killing me that I still can't wed you."

"Oh, come _here,_ " Bad hiccupped and closed his eyes as Skeppy crashed his lips onto his, melting into his touch, the wooden edge of the table digging against his back as Skeppy leaned into him. His hands made their way to Skeppy's thick, dark hair, gripping onto the curls tightly, making him moan, and Bad took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside the other's mouth, hot and wet and unflinchingly desperate.

Skeppy was the first to pull away, nipping at Bad's earlobe. "Let's take this to the bed," he whispered, voice heavy with arousal. Bad nodded numbly as the king led him over to the cot, pushing him down and devouring him again with hungry kisses.

"S-Skeppy—!" Bad moaned, pushing his hips up against him, whining at the lack of heat. "I need you, please—"

"You love being in control, don't you?" Skeppy purred delightedly into his ear. Bad mewled as the king ground his pelvis against him, desperate for more contact. "Except when you're under me, of course." Bad whined his name again, and Skeppy moved to remove his armor. "Patience, dove. I'll give you _exactly_ what you need."

The sudden commotion erupting outside quickly snapped them back to their senses. Bad pulled away apologetically, and Skeppy nodded slowly in return, an unspoken agreement hanging between them.

_Not now._

Skeppy put his helmet on before the two of them headed outside, seeing the chaos unfolding before them.

"Search the area!" came an angry command. "They've got the Dragonborn with them!"

Skeppy's eyes widened. He knew those voices—those _men_ —and panic gripped his heart. "Bad, we can't let them know that they're gone."

Bad nodded faintly beside him. "I know."

It was a blur of cold steel and splattered blood as they weaved through the fighters, dodging the hasty slashes and the flying arrows. BadBoyHalo cried out for a retreat, but the other party was relentless. The Duke of Ardeca watched over them with a cool, calm collectedness as he directed his army, looking regal upon his horse. In contrast, the Duke of Innstile was a ball of fire, spry and feisty on the battlefield as though he knew the ins and outs of it despite his age.

"He's not here, Your Grace!" One of the Everial knights yelled.

"Capture them!" Tommy yelled, aiming a crossbow straight at Bad. Skeppy caught him just in time, shouting in alarm and shielding him with his body.

"Sk—!" Bad gasped as Skeppy hissed, the bolt lodging in his shoulder. The king grasped a sword and lunged at Tommy, the adrenaline rushing through his veins despite the throbbing pain.

The lad fought valiantly, but he panicked, and Skeppy delivered a hasty slash towards his leg. One, two, four, twenty arrows flew in his direction, nicking his body with cuts. Phil commanded their forces to retreat, running over to Tommy's side.

"Run, you Invidel bastards!" Tommy spat vehemently, nursing his injured limb. "Cowards! Thieves!"

"Leave!" Phil shouted. "Enough blood was spilled today."

Bad hoisted Skeppy onto his horse and they rode off into the night at once, cold, injured, and empty-handed.

* * *

"I've gone through worse, you know," Skeppy hissed through gritted teeth as Bad pulled out the bolt. "Hey! Careful with that!"

"Oh, you've gone through _worse_ now, have you?" Bad chided, tearing a strip of cloth from his cloak and slathering it in the honey he'd collected. There was only so much that his light could do, and healing wasn't one of them. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that you were trying to break a whole new record!"

"I'm not a _child,_ Bad," Skeppy scoffed, pushing back his hair with his free hand. "I can handle myself. Besides..." His expression turned soft, and his voice a little quieter. "He would've killed you."

"So you think that my life is worth more than yours?" Bad swallowed down his anger, trying to keep his voice from rising. "Skeppy, he _shot_ you! Y-You could stand to feel a _little_ sorry for yourself, you know." He bit back a sob, but even he couldn't stop the tears brimming from his puffy eyes. Thankfully, the armor absorbed the worst of the damage, and the bolt hadn't made an exit wound. Still, to have Skeppy treat himself as dispensable—what nonsense!

"I'm sorry," Skeppy whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know you didn't," Bad whispered back in a shaky voice.

They sat in silence for a while, and Skeppy _hated_ it. He hated how Bad's brows were all creased up with worry, his lip trembling as he dressed his wounds. He reached out to cup his sweetheart's cheek with one warm hand, letting a smile curve his lips.

"I'm sorry I can't continue what we started earlier," he said with a cheeky grin.

Bad looked taken aback for a second, before he huffed out a weak chuckle. "You're such a muffinhead, Skeppy. I can't _believe_ you're thinking of that right now."

"Well, _I_ heard that kisses make everything feel better." Skeppy batted his lashes up at him. Bad resisted the urge to laugh. He was glad to see this side of his King, vulnerable and humorous and always so thoughtful—of course, he never ceased to try and rile him up, as usual. "Come on, Bad, just one little peck."

"Skeppy, I am _not_ giving you a kiss."

"What? Why not?" Skeppy's face dropped down to a comical frown. "It's just _one_ kiss, come on Bad, come on—"

"Okay! Okay, fine!" Bad moved to press a feather-light kiss to the top of the gauze wrapped around his shoulder. "There. Are you happy, Skeppy?"

"Loads," he replied, and his face lit up with a blinding smile. "Thank you, Bad. I love you."

"I love you, too," Bad replied softly, cradling Skeppy's face in his hands and giving him a proper kiss on the lips. He felt a little proud of how dazed the other man looked when he pulled back. Bad held up his hand as he tried to locate his tether without making it visible; he couldn't risk George seeing it even for a second.

"Now let's go look for that pesky Dragonborn."

* * *

Three days had passed, and BadBoyHalo was almost at his wit's end. He didn't think that they'd come across the Earl of Sotteron, not when Phil and Tommy had already called for a retreat. Yet here he was, in full armor, flanked by a couple of soldiers. Why on Earth was George so close to Wilbur's camp?

"What a pleasant surprise," Wilbur said toothily. "Come to retrieve your treasure, have you?"

"Leave us be," Bad said, fear in his eyes. They were outnumbered, and he was unequipped for battle. Beside him, Skeppy tensed, and Bad prayed that Wilbur wouldn't recognize him in his armor. "We're going home."

"You're a few ways from Invidel, Your Grace," Wilbur said with a mocking bow. "No matter. Looks like you won't be missed anyhow."

Bad's eyes flashed for a second, and it was all he could do as he grabbed Skeppy's hand, running through the trees before they could unfreeze. He wished he'd been able to master that particular skill, as he thought his tether would be enough.

_Damn it, George!_

They nearly tripped over the bushes and the branches, all while Wilbur shouted for their deaths. If he caught up to them now, they'd be _dead,_ in more ways than one: Skeppy's identity would be revealed and Invidel would be left kingless—if he didn't note a successor. Either way, it would be terrible for their poor kingdom, and for his poor heart.

The wind was relentless, but the earl moreso, until he'd finally caught up to them and delivered a swift blow towards Bad.

...Only it wasn't Bad who took the damage, but Skeppy himself. The metal armor cleaved under his blade, and suddenly there was wet, sticky crimson against Bad's arms.

" _NO!_ " Bad screamed, holding him close. 

He wanted to rip away his helmet just to make sure he was still breathing—but not now, _no,_ not when danger was still looming over them. Wilbur swung his blade high and Bad forcibly pried himself away from Skeppy's body, grabbing the king's sword and using it to defend himself.

Now, Bad held his own sword in his other hand, wielding both and glancing around as the three circled him—Wilbur, and his two archers, all ready to strike at a moment's notice. There was a flash of movement to his side, and Bad quickly reacted, ducking and leaping out of the way before lunging at the attacker, ending him with a swift thrust to his stomach.

The other guard growled and retaliated, firing two shots that slashed his cheek and grazed his arm. Bad hissed as he launched himself at him, spinning out of his reach and striking his back with a twist of his arm.

He then turned around to look for Wilbur, and his heart immediately stopped for a second.

The earl held Skeppy's helmet in one hand, and his bloodied blade in another. Skeppy looked delirious, his head lolling to the side as he weakly held out a hand towards Bad.

"The King of Invidel, at last," Wilbur mused. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. Techno will surely appreciate having your head served on a platter."

Bad screamed.

And then there was light.

Wilbur turned his head in alarm as a cloud of smoke rose up over their heads, and a growing inferno started ravaging the forest. The earl's sword clattered to the ground, and he started running back towards his camp. Bad rushed over to Skeppy's side, cupping his face gingerly and feeling his faint breath.

"I'm here, I'm here, my love," he whispered brokenly, carrying Skeppy in his arms as he stumbled through the trees, away from the fire, away from the direction Wilbur took off in. He ignored the redstone tether for now, as he desperately tried to clean and close up Skeppy's wounds, or at least stop the bleeding. "I'm here, darling, I've got you."

* * *

"Without a horse, I trudged all the way to Cacitine, where I tried to seek help," Bad murmured, finishing up his story.

"It's a miracle he's still alive," George said sympathetically. _So the duo that Wilbur was threatening him with... was Bad and Skeppy all along?_

"I'm forever indebted to you," Bad whispered. "You saved his life."

"However," Dream interrupted, still glaring heatedly at him, "there's something suspicious about your story. How come Wilbur didn't finish him off?"

"H-How do you mean?" Bad asked, eyes darting around for a second.

"He already had you in his grasp," Dream laughed mirthlessly. "Two nobles from the enemy kingdom, one of them being the King himself; surely he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make sure the deed was done."

"Dream," George started.

"And _you_ didn't hesitate to kill the two others. Why did you leave Wilbur alive?"

"Dream, that's enough!" Sapnap said, resting a hand on his arm.

"Were you working with him?" Dream breathed angrily, ignoring the two. "Did he send you here to track George down?"

"How could you?" Bad's eyes were wide as he squeezed Skeppy's hand. "Why would I—How _dare_ you—"

"BadBoyHalo," George spoke quietly. "Your Grace, if you truly value your oaths, you would let us know what happened."

Bad seemed to deflate at that, letting out a shuddering exhale. "I had a moment of weakness," he said forlornly, brushing Skeppy's hair away from his forehead. "I couldn't let Wilbur kill him. So I told them my solution to the Great Decay."

"Killing the Wither?" Sapnap asked.

Bad only nodded, and avoided their gazes. "I gave him my map to the Moors, and told him about the portal. Then he saw the fire, and I escaped with Skeppy. Of course, it seemed like he already knew about the portal, just not how to open it."

George frowned. "Am I really the only one who could open it?"

To their surprise, Bad shook his head, and pointed slowly at Dream. "Him, too."

"Dream...?" George and Sapnap echoed. The Ender just looked at him in shock.

"The Enders were the last to leave the Moors," Bad explained. "They closed the portal behind them and tried to look for a source of magic from this side of the world, as they were so drawn to it." George's heart sank as he remembered Dream's constant journeys, thriving on adrenaline and the thrill of adventure. "If they could seal it up, then surely they could open it again. No other halfling could do it. Do you think I never tried?"

"Then why were you after me?" George scowled.

"It's no secret that Dragonborns are powerful halflings," Bad replied regretfully. "We couldn't rule out the possibility that you might be able to do it too. Besides, Dream would've never agreed to it if you weren't involved!"

"So you sent Wilbur after Dream?!" Sapnap growled.

Bad flinched. "I _didn't!_ I told you, he only had the map and the knowledge of the portal. As far as he's concerned, _George_ is the only key to it."

"He's still after George, then?" Dream slammed his hands on the table, and grabbed the poor duke by his neck. "You _filthy, sniveling, snake!_ You wouldn't even have been able to go through the portal if we didn't follow your fucking _deal!_ "

"I'm sorry!" Bad choked out, his hands flying over to Dream's arm, trying to pry him away. "I'm sorry, please, I was only trying to save my kingdom!"

"At the cost of our lives?!" Sapnap shouted.

Skeppy suddenly made a pitiful noise, his body shuddering on the bed.

"Dream, let him go," George pleaded. Dream acquiesced, and Bad dropped to his knees, coughing and clutching at his throat. The duke's hands found Skeppy's again, and he wept miserably onto his skin.

"He put our lives in danger," Dream growled, turning to George. " _Your_ life."

"My life was already in danger the minute my village was crushed down into dust," George countered, the fury in his voice ebbing away. "You... You would've done the same thing for me, too."

Dream's shoulders slumped down, and guilt flashed across his face. "I..."

"Defeating the Wither would set us all free," Bad rasped. "Neither Everial nor Invidel will be able to lay a finger on you. We'd be in your debt for the rest of our lives."

"You've gone to the Moors before," Sapnap interjected, summoning his courage. "Anything important we should know?"

"The land is barren, an even greater wasteland than what Invidel once was. You'd do best to stock up on food and water." He thought for a bit more, squeezing Skeppy's hand gently. "Creatures that do not dare walk amongst us thrive in the Moorlands; beasts with large tusks prowl the grounds. And, like I said, there's a portal that lies in its heart."

For a moment, there was only silence. Dream regarded him with an inscrutable expression, cold detachment mingling with heated fury and subdued remorse. "When we defeat the Wither," he finally said, "will you let us go?"

Bad nodded weakly.

"And no time limits?" Sapnap queried.

"None."

"Do I still have the—?" George asked, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Bad nodded and waved his hand, revealing the red light again. "I can remove it, if you'd like," he said. "I won't be able to track you anymore, though."

"We don't even know if it's real," Dream murmured, though his resolve was slowly wavering, too. "The Wither, I mean."

"I believe you three can do it, regardless," Bad said. "If it turns out to be just stories, then you're free to go."

"But Technoblade will still be after me." George's stomach shifted with worry. 

"All the land and protection you'll ever need will be yours," the duke promised. "You may go to Eppelage, which remains protected from either kingdom. Please consider it my apology." His face fell at their downcast expressions. "...Or not, I suppose. Thank you for sparing us, anyway."

George turned to Dream, who seemed to find the ground as the most interesting thing in the world. Meanwhile, Sapnap's gaze was roaming everywhere but the two nobles, seemingly lost in thought but also simply at a loss. George carefully weighed his options: if they declined, they would be freed and given protection, but they would have to stay safe in Eppelage, or Techno would be able to get to them. He tried to do the same thing in Founetter, he thought bitterly, but he was captured anyway. Besides, it would mean curbing Dream and Sapnap's freedom, too, and it didn't sit right with him at all.

On the other hand, if they accepted, they could go home empty-handed, and live the same fate, in the end. They could _die,_ measly sacrifices in a battle that nobody knew how to fight.

But they could _win,_ and be heralded as _heroes._ He wouldn't have to stomach the glares of those who scorned him and his kind anymore, and maybe then the world would be a little more tolerant. They wouldn't need to hide anymore.

"I'll do it," George declared, with an air of finality, " _if_ you promise that neither Techno nor Wilbur will go after us."

Bad's eyes shone in gratitude, and he released the breath he didn't know he was holding in. "I will do everything in my power to make sure that they never reach you."

"Those bastards better not touch a single hair on George's head," Dream sniffed, "or it won't be just them that you'll have to watch out for."

"On my honor," Bad said sincerely, twisting off the signet ring on his finger and handing it to George. "Should you need to call in a favor in my name, let this be your proof."

"Thank you, Your Grace," George replied.

"Just Bad is fine," he murmured with a faint smile. "I can't thank you enough for all that you've done for us. I hope one day you can forgive me."

"We'll see," Dream replied curtly, and the three headed out the door at once, leaving Bad alone with his thoughts, and his king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad didn't tell them about the makeouts of course lmao
> 
> You know when you just want to write about a royalty fantasy AU but then you start thinking about the ramifications of their actions (especially the political figures) and... yeah.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑
> 
> Don't forget to hit subscribe so you can get notified through emails with each new update! And I've got a [CC](https://curiouscat.qa/gravitasfallen) now! (＾∇＾)


	13. Heart of the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> What's this?! A double update?! If you saw my tweet yesterday, you already know what's up. (*ﾉωﾉ)  
> Have some smut muah.

They paid the innkeeper a little more to take good care of their horses, as having them board a ship along with them might lead to a bigger disaster. Dream gave Claudia one last pat before heading out of the stables, sighing wearily.

"Don't worry," George said gently, "she's in good hands."

"I know," Dream whispered back. "It's just... we've never been apart for very long."

"I'm going to miss the little bastard," Sapnap chuckled. "Even if he kept trying to buck me off in the beginning."

Dream's eyes gleamed in the moonlight. "Oh! Remember when..."

And so they delved down memory lane, regaling George with tales of their pets, laughter ringing amongst themselves as they made their way to the ports. At last, they reached the traders' pavilion, and Dream immediately recognized Eret amongst the crowd of merchants, the dark visor making him hard to miss.

"Eret!" he called out, and the seller turned to face him.

"Oh, I remember you," he said, gazing between Dream and Sapnap. "Anything I can do for you, gentlemen?"

"Are you en route to somewhere tonight?" Dream asked.

"I won't be leaving for anywhere until the day after tomorrow," Eret replied. "Why? Where are you headed?"

"Hypssen," Dream replied immediately. George and Sapnap tried to hide their confusion. That would be quite far from the Moorlands, needing to turn left before it even passes the island.

"You're in luck then," Eret said. "There's a passenger ship headed for Hypssen right now in the docks. I'm not sure whether there's still room left, so you'd best be off."

"Thank you," Dream said with a grin, placing an arm around George's shoulders, "and for the present as well." 

Eret regarded them with an amused stare as he waved them off and continued sorting his items.

"Hypssen?" Sapnap echoed quietly, once they were out of earshot. "Aren't we headed for the Moors?"

Dream nodded. "Yes, but it's much easier to convince someone to go for a well-known kingdom rather than some barren old island, isn't it? We could just row out on a dinghy once we get close enough to the Moorlands."

"But will they let us?" George asked.

Dream smiled. "Of course. _Royal business,_ remember?" Realization dawned on George and Sapnap's faces as the implications sunk in. "Give me his ring. Loathe as I am to admit it, looks like we'll be needing that favor after all."

"What were you planning on doing, if Bad hadn't turned up at all tonight?" Sapnap asked uneasily.

George let out a heavy sigh. " _Please_ tell me you weren't thinking of teleporting us to the island yourself."

"Of course not. We'd still be stowaways, and once we're close enough, we would..." Dream hesitated, and his companions groaned in reply. "What?" he huffed defensively. "I could do it!"

" _Sure,_ " George drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm, "and if you pass out in the middle of it all, don't say we didn't warn you."

"You don't believe in me, Georgie?" Dream pouted.

"I do," George amended, leaning closer into Dream's warmth, "but not on the merit of you hurting yourself."

Once they reached the docks, there was but one ship left, already about to close its gangway. 

"Stop!" Sapnap called out to the man left on the pier.

"No time left," the man replied. "You'll have to wait in two weeks."

"The Duke of Montessy assigned us on a mission to Hypssen," Dream said calmly. "He would like to send his regards." He showed Bad's signet ring to the man, who examined it carefully.

"The Duke's got an odd sense of timing," the man mused, returning it to Dream.

George shrugged in turn. "The nobles do as they please."

"Fair enough," the man conceded. "There should be a spare cabin below the deck."

"Thank you—" Sapnap began, but the man held up a hand to stop him.

"It'll cost ya."

"How much?" Dream grumbled, but George already retrieved his pouch. He gave him a decent handful from his stash, and the man eagerly let them onboard.

* * *

The cabin was small, on the far end of the wooden hallways. There was a bunk bed, each suited for one person, high enough for Dream to sit comfortably underneath. By the wall stood a dresser for their belongings. A hammock was also set up in the far side of the room, tied between two wooden poles. The three of them set down their gear and settled down onto the bed, George curling down onto it while Dream and Sapnap sat at the edge.

"We've got two more nights before we come close to the Moorlands," Dream stated. "Until then, we should talk about what we're planning to do."

"It all feels too real," Sapnap said uneasily. "What if we get there and there's nothing?"

"That's easy," George replied glumly. "We're free, and Bad gives us protection. What I'm worried about is whether or not Everial's going to be waiting for us when we get there."

"We'll protect each other," Dream said solemnly. "I'll keep watch with my Eye, and you two can wreak havoc all you want."

"Solid plan," Sapnap laughed.

George kicked him lightly from behind. "Bet you can't get them from the ocean."

"How dare you?" the Pyrokene slapped his leg away. "Bet I can get them with my eyes closed." George kicked him again in retaliation.

"Stop, stop," Dream said, chuckling. "What about the Wither?"

"Well," Sapnap began, "what do we know about it from the myths?"

"You know, the usual," George responded, picking at a thread in the sheets. "Three, swiveling heads, and the power to make anything rot away into dust with a single touch."

"They say it grows more powerful with each victim," Dream sighed. "The more arcane, the more power it gets. Which is how its rot managed to get past the portal, it seems. There's no shortage of magic in the Moors after all."

"Did it have any weakness?" Sapnap asked. "After all, _something_ must be holding it back from getting to our side."

"Well, there's the sealed portal," Dream mused.

George cleared his throat. "My nan used to talk about a great chain that our ancestors used as a last resort, forged in fire and dragon's breath. O-Of course, she only told us about it when we were misbehaving! I'm not sure whether or not such a chain could even exist at all."

Sapnap's eyes lit up with alarm. "Dream!" he exclaimed. "Do you think this could be... netherite?"

"The weaponsmith said even he wasn't sure if it was real," Dream replied hesitantly.

"But think about it," Sapnap urged him. "Strong, old, and magical. The fact that he'd even _heard_ of it means that there must be some semblance of truth to it."

"Things are becoming more and more real by the minute," George mumbled.

"If it _is_ chained, like what you two are saying," Dream began, "it might be in our best interests to take it down while it's still tethered. Who knows what more it could be capable of?"

"This is all assuming that it's even real," Sapnap said. "It's still best that it doesn't at all, and we could all be on our way."

"And the plague just exists because... it does?" George frowned. "This is the best lead we'd had in months, and if it's all for nothing, then..."

"It's out of our hands," Dream murmured. "I wish we could fix things too, but we can't when we don't know the root of the problem."

"I'm going up to the deck," Sapnap sighed. "I need to clear my head for a while. See you in a couple of hours."

"Bye," Dream called out, as George waved to him. Sapnap gave them a small salute before heading out.

Once he'd left, George immediately sat up, wrapping his arms around Dream's midsection and resting his head onto his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Just thinking," Dream sighed, leaning into George's touch. "Why were we given this _huge_ responsibility? I know Bad talked about the portal thing, but... I don't know. I just wanted to live a life with you."

George's heart dropped in his chest. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically, "I should've asked before I accepted."

"No, no, I'm not angry with you," Dream whispered, turning to kiss the side of George's head. "It's Bad," he muttered angrily. "He knew all this time, from the very first night. He used you to get to me. This isn't fair to you, George."

"He set us up to fail," George murmured quietly, cupping Dream's cheek with one hand. "But I'm stronger now, aren't I? We all are. And if anyone can take on this challenge, it's us." He closed his eyes as he leaned in and kissed his lover softly.

"George," Dream breathed out as they parted. He turned himself in George's arms and they were kissing once more, slipping his tongue in George's inviting mouth, and drinking in his soft moans. He tasted like cinnamon, spicy and sugary sweet, and just as addictive. Dream groaned and pulled the brunette onto his lap, hips bucking up in tiny increments. " _George..._ "

They broke away with a wet noise. "Want to let out your frustrations?" George laughed breathlessly, placing his other hand on Dream's chest. He trailed his fingers along Dream's slackened jaw, bringing down his hood and tugging on his mask.

"Feeling bold today, are we?" Dream groaned, snaking his arms underneath George's tunic. "What happened to not letting people see?"

"What happened to wanting another taste?" George shot back, already unclasping Dream's cloak and sliding it down his shoulders. "Let the world know I'm yours. Though... we can just stop and cuddle," he amended.

"Oh, _no._ " Dream gripped his hips, making him gasp in surprise. "I fully intend on taking you up on your offer, Georgie. What did you have in mind?"

George surged forward and kissed him again, trailing down his throat and past his clothed chest. He sat himself in between his lover's legs, pulling down his trousers and releasing his half-hard erection.

" _Oh,_ " Dream breathed as George's warm lips ghosted over his cock, his dark eyes looking up at him through pretty lashes. 

"Is this okay, Dream?" George whispered, his pale fingers stroking up and down the shaft. "May I?"

"George, don't _tease,_ " Dream grunted, raking his hands through his beloved's dark hair. "You said letting out frustration, not adding to it."

George laughed softly, his hot breath sending shivers down the other's spine. "Okay," he murmured, poking his tongue out to lick the slit. Dream made a sharp noise, bucking his hips in search of more. George held down his thighs and lifted a finger to Dream's lips, the latter's eyes watching the digit carefully.

"Don't want others coming in here now, do we?" George said with a teasing smirk. "Better keep quiet, Dream."

George suddenly took him into his mouth, red lips passing over the head and trailing down his shaft, drool dribbling down the side of his chin. Dream bit his lip hard to muffle his moans, tugging harshly onto George's locks as the latter tried to swallow him down to the hilt.

"F— _Ffffuck_ ," Dream hissed, throwing his head back just as George started enthusiastically bobbing his, moaning around the mouthful of cock, eyes rolling back from the pleasure. "George, you feel so _good..._ "

George smacked Dream's thigh lightly, reminding him to be quiet, smiling playfully as the other man became putty in his hands. Dream trembled from the effort to keep himself from furiously facefucking him until he came. Instead, he focused on stroking George's scalp, staring breathlessly at his beautiful, flushed face, wondering how on Earth he'd gotten so lucky.

Suddenly, his cock was fully encased in wet heat, and he almost keened immediately. The outline of George's spectacles dug into his skin, and he could feel the other's soft inhales against his pelvis. George giggled, and Dream retaliated by thrusting slightly into his mouth—that _wonderful, sinful thing_ —and was promptly met with a sputtering George. The Dragonborn glared at him for a moment, before picking up his pace and bobbing his head rapidly, using his tongue and his hands to bring him closer and closer to the edge.

Dream keened and choked out a "so close—!" before George suddenly pulled away, the cold air hitting his flushed, aching cock. "G-George?"

"Want you inside me," George rasped. "Wanna... Wanna feel you again."

"Wait," Dream replied, reaching for his cloak. In one of its pockets lay a vial with a thick, clear liquid, and he held it up to George's face, looking at him earnestly. "I found some slime at the hut we went to earlier," he explained bashfully. "I was saving it for some other time, when we could... _y'know..._ "

"What better time than now?" George whispered, shucking off his breeches and pulling his tunic over his head. "Come on, Dream, show me what you've got." Dream removed his own clothing and pulled him onto his lap, lips meeting his again, colliding sloppily as George sighed out his name in a needy whisper.

Dream pulled away to admire him, eyes roving hungrily over George's bare torso, desperately wanting to _bite,_ to _mark._ He thumbed over George's collarbone, delighting in the shiver that ran through the smaller's body.

"Dream," George said in a low voice, baring his neck submissively, "take me. Make me _yours._ "

There was something about the way George spoke to him, hot and needy for _him_ that ignited the primal, possessive hunger within his core. Dream buried his nose into George's neck, inhaling his scent deeply, before darting out a tongue and leaving a wet mark on the pale skin. While his mouth busied itself with sucking dark hickeys onto his neck and collarbone, his own fingers fumbled for the slime, reaching around to slip in a lubed digit into George's entrance.

"Mmfh!" George squeaked at the intrusion, flushing brightly. " _Yes, please, a-ah—_ "

"What happened to staying quiet, hmm?" Dream teased, pulling back for a moment to see George's wanton expression, eyes blown out with lust, his mouth slack as Dream continued his ministrations. 

"S-Sorry." George bit back a moan as Dream added another finger, thrusting his fingers in and out of the warm space.

"I can't wait to do this again," Dream whispered, pressing a kiss onto George's chest, "when I can _finally_ hear you _scream_ my name."

"Oh, shut up and focus on the _now._ " George cupped Dream's cheeks and pulled him in for a bruising kiss, grinding on his fingers, desperate for more, more, _more—_

"I might not last long," Dream warned. He lathered some of the slime onto his cock, shivering lightly at the temperature.

"Me neither," George admitted, whining slightly as Dream removed his fingers. "Ready?"

"I should be the one asking you that," Dream laughed lightly, rubbing light circles into his hips. "Don't push yourself too hard."

"It's okay, I want this, want _you,_ " George replied, slowly sinking down on Dream's cock. "O-Oh _fuck—!_ " He whimpered, feeling the burn from the stretch. Even with the lubrication from his saliva and the slime, it was still a tight fit, and Dream's hands gripped his hips even harder. " _D-Dream—!_ "

"You're so _tight,_ " Dream hissed, gripping him hard enough to leave faint bruises. "Perfect, you feel so perfect, George."

George only made small, short sounds and gasps, wrapping his arms around Dream's neck as the latter nestled his head against his chest, leaving more love bites scattered across his skin. He held back a whimper and dug his nails into Dream's freckled shoulders, leaving indents that made him smile with pleasure.

"Oh, George," Dream whispered reverently, his breath hitching as George fully seated himself on his cock, clenching hotly around him. If he so much as moved a muscle, he felt like he was going to _blow._ "Doing so good, so well. Are you okay?"

George nodded, getting used to the feeling. "I am," he said, moving himself slightly. "Mmm... Dream..." He started raising and lowering his hips at a steady pace. "I'm so _full..._ " He let out a shuddering breath as he felt every drag of Dream's thick shaft against his walls, so _warm_ and so _good_ inside of him. His own cock was achingly hard, dripping precum between their bellies—

"O-Oh," he said softly, reaching down a hand to press against his stomach. "I can feel you _here_. So _big..._ "

"George I can't—" Dream whimpered quietly, "I'm going to—"

And that was all the warning he got before Dream was pulling him flush to the hilt, spilling all over his sloppy hole, filling him with his creamy seed. George stared up at him with lust-blown eyes, taking in every drop as he rode him to completion. Dream let out a long, drawn-out moan, muffling it into his lover's neck, his face flushing darkly.

"K-Keep going," he panted. "You haven't—not yet—"

George mewled, reaching out for Dream's hand through the haze of lust, and placing it firmly on his cock. "Touch me," he begged. "Q-Quicker, quicker Dream, _yes—!_ " He could feel Dream's spent cock throbbing inside of him, and each rapid bounce of his ass sent Dream whining onto him, his large hand stroking him eagerly. 

"So beautiful, George," Dream mumbled. "So handsome... Absolutely wonderful..."

"Dream, Dream, _Dream,_ " George chanted his name like a prayer, latching onto his neck and sucking _hard_ just as he reached his ecstasy. His body jerked against his lover's as his cum coated his palm in white. He leaned against Dream's sweaty chest, feeling warm and safe in his arms as he struggled to catch his breath.

"How was that?" George panted cheekily, tilting his head to meet Dream's eyes.

His expression was soft, awed even, as he reached up to cup George's cheek in his clean hand. "Wonderful," he breathed. "You're amazing, George. I love you."

"Oh, come here," George chuckled, kissing him again. They broke apart after a quick second, resting their foreheads together. "I love you too, Dream. So, _so_ much."

Dream grinned brightly at that, pressing a kiss onto the corner of his mouth. "My Georgie," he said sweetly, peppering his face in more kisses as George giggled and squirmed in his hold. "Come on, I have to clean you up."

There on the dresser was a clay pot holding some water. Dream reached for his satchel, retrieving another rag for him and dipping it in the water. He carefully laid George onto the bed, wiping the sticky remnants off his ass and his stomach. He flushed slightly at the memory of seeing the slight bulge he made there, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"I don't think I can go for another round," George laughed, and Dream pressed a kiss onto his nose.

"I don't know if I can either," he replied. "I don't even know if I still have the energy to go onto the top bunk."

"Let's stay down here together then," George replied, sitting up with a small wince. He took the rag from Dream and wiped him down with it too, right after he'd wrung it and replaced the water. He eyed the mark he left on Dream's neck, an angry red that was slowly starting to heal. He supposed he wasn't faring any better, feeling the pleasant ache settling down on his neck and his chest. His tunic could easily hide those, though there were some that would be a little harder to conceal.

"I'm sorry I got too rough," Dream murmured.

"It wasn't just you," George replied, setting down the rag onto the dresser and slipping into the bed right next to him. It was a tight fit, considering there were two of them, so they leaned on their sides, tangled in each other's limbs. "You're incredibly attractive, did you know that?"

"I wouldn't mind hearing it from you," Dream replied, stifling a yawn.

"Poor boy," George whispered teasingly, drawing the covers over their bodies. "You tired?"

"Maybe," Dream replied. "I want to talk with you a little longer, though."

"Sapnap was right," George chortled. "We _are_ doing things all out of order."

"Speaking of him," Dream said, a little more alert. "He told me you'd say yes if I asked you to marry me right this instant."

"Oh, well..." George's cheeks turned a rosy pink. "I'm not going to lie when I say that I've thought about what it'd be like, living together... t-that is, before I knew you loved me back."

"Tell me," Dream said sincerely, his eyes boring into his.

"Well," George began, smiling softly, "after we get married, you'd take me with you on your trips. We'd write about them together, and publish our memoirs in hopes it would inspire others to do the same. Then we'd settle down in a nice little cottage by the countryside, surrounded by friends and family." He sighed wistfully as Dream wrapped his arms around him like a warm cocoon.

"What else?" Dream murmured into his hair.

"On the weekends, we'd invite some of them over for lunch," George thought aloud, "or now that I consider it, a sparring match with Sapnap, mayhaps." That drew a tired little chuckle from Dream. "And in the evenings, we'll sit and curl up by the hearth. I'll light the fire, and we'll share a good book or dance together in the parlor."

"And children?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead," George confessed. "We could adopt, if you want. I don't think we can have a few ourselves."

"I'm sure they'll turn out as wonderful as you are." Dream let out a low, rumbling laugh. "I'd like that. I can't wait to have all of that when we get married, George."

"Are you proposing right now?" George teased, half-alarmed. "It hasn't even been a day since you started courting me."

"I like to think that I've started doing so the day I stayed in Founetter," Dream said softly. "And no, not yet, but I'm highly considering it."

"Well, in that case, I can't wait to marry you, too," George replied, hugging him back tightly. "Get some sleep, we've got a long day ahead of us. I love you, Dream."

"Like it when y' say that," Dream mumbled sleepily. "Love you too."

"Then I'll say it each day," George whispered, squeezing him comfortingly as he drifted off to sleep. "I love you."

Dream's breathing finally evened out, anger and frustration gone from his face. George watched him adoringly, brushing his hair back with his deft fingers. He was about to slip off into slumber himself when a sudden _creak_ rang through the air. George turned his head and met Sapnap's wide eyes. The Pyrokene turned bright red and held up his hand to stop George from saying anything, before closing the door behind him gently.

George hurriedly pulled himself away from Dream's arms, careful not to wake him up. He pulled on his trousers and his tunic, careful to hide the worst of his marks, slipping on his shoes before leaving to confront Sapnap.

* * *

He caught up to him right before they got to the deck, right after the entrance to the hall of cabins. "Sapnap, can we talk?"

"Look, George," Sapnap said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't have to worry about me every time you do something with Dream. I'm okay."

"I'm just... afraid," George admitted, wringing his hands together. "I don't want things to go as badly as they did last time."

"It's not like I wasn't expecting it," Sapnap chuckled. "I mean, you were half-naked with him the first time I saw the two of you together. It was only a matter of time before you two went at it again."

George blushed brightly. "W-What? When?"

"The night we rescued you from Techno," Sapnap replied. "You were asleep in the tent and Dream was spluttering excuses. It was a shock, to say the least."

"Oh, _no,_ " George groaned, covering his face in his hands.

"What a first impression, Georgie," Sapnap chortled, wrapping an arm around him. "And now you're _rocking the boat._ "

"I'm so, _so_ sorry," George choked out in a muffled voice, his stomach turning to lead. "No wonder that's what you thought of me—oh, Fates above, that's so _embarrassing_ —"

"Hey, hey, it's all in good fun," Sapnap said sincerely, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "To be fair, you've already gotten in my good graces now. I'll be fine, George, really. I was going to say that I'm spending the night playing cards with some of the guys I met."

"Y-Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sapnap assured him. "They're a rowdy bunch, but it'll help calm my nerves down for what comes after tomorrow."

"Okay," George breathed. "Thank you, Sapnap."

"Sorry for making you worry, George," he replied, pulling away and giving him a wave. "Send Dream my regards."

"Send them to him yourself tomorrow," George huffed, but his wobbly smile betrayed his true emotions. He returned to the cabin in much lighter spirits. 

(Though when he opened the door, the sudden stench of _sex_ slapped him in the face. His cheeks colored even more.)

He lay back next to Dream, though it didn't go unnoticed, as the taller man stirred under the movement. "You're dressed," he mumbled.

"I had to take care of something," George replied, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm here now."

"Not fair," Dream pouted, tugging at the fabric.

"If I take my shirt off, would it appease you?"

"Yes."

George complied, setting his glasses down onto the dresser as well. Dream smiled lazily, scooting over to make more room. "Mmm. Better. How do you feel, George?"

"A little sore, but I'll be fine." He lay back down on the bed, opening his arms for an embrace. "Now c'mere. You're warm."

"You can make fire," Dream quipped, hugging him anyway.

"But you're comfier."

Dream made a pleased little noise as they drifted off to sleep again, safe and sound amongst the gentle waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self indulgence at its finest.
> 
> Listen I know penetration isn't the one true way to have sex but if I can slip in a creampie in there, by God I will! Also, Dream was supposed to be the one to confront Sapnap in the end, but I figured those two needed to interact more lol
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑
> 
> Don't forget to hit subscribe so you can get notified through emails with each new update! And I've got a [CC](https://curiouscat.qa/gravitasfallen) now! (＾∇＾)


	14. The Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> 10k hits what! Thank you to everyone who has supported this story by far!
> 
> Cameo go brrr. Dedicated to some friends muah ily!!! /p You guys have convinced me to ship them so. A little treat ( ◞･౪･) 
> 
> Also did you know that doves and pigeons are scientifically the same?
> 
> This was supposed to be two chapters, but the latter was too short so I just combined them into a huge one. Hence why the chapter count went from 20 to 19!
> 
>  **Warnings for fear of drowning, degradation, suicidal thoughts, and attempted sexual harassment.** Do tell me if I need to add more warnings! :(

George woke up to the sound of the door slamming open. He blinked his eyes rapidly in surprise, suddenly wrenched out of his pleasant dreams.

"Get up. Now." Sapnap's voice was frantic and raspy, as though he'd just woken up himself. George rolled out of the covers as Sapnap started shaking Dream's shoulders, urging him to rise up as well. The latter groaned and covered himself up, smacking Sapnap's hand away.

"What's going on?" George asked, throwing on his tunic again. "What time of day is it?"

"George, they're here," Sapnap said, fear in his eyes. 

Dream immediately bolted up, inhaling sharply. "Who?"

" _Everial._ "

The silence was deafening. George turned pale, quickly strapping his dagger around his waist. Dream's glare turned murderous, clenching the sheets until his knuckles turned white. " _What?_ "

"I overheard the guys in the dining hall," Sapnap explained rapidly. "They spotted Techno's warship in the distance, and it's already heading this way."

"That can't be right," Dream muttered, already redressing himself. "There's no way they'd know that quickly."

"Bad said—He said he'd keep them away..." George's breath hitched in his throat. "How did they—How could they—?"

"It's Wilbur," Dream hissed. "He sold us out to Wilbur, that _bastard._ I knew we couldn't trust him."

"We have to go _now_ ," Sapnap pressed on. "I know where the dinghies are, when I explored the place last night. Come on, let's get mad at Bad when we're safer, yeah?"

The ship suddenly came to a halt, and George immediately froze. Dream wrapped him in his arms at once, whispering words of comfort in his ears. Sapnap was patient, holding onto their supplies as they made their way down the hall.

"Over here, sire—" came the voice of the man in the port, the sound of footsteps drawing nearer and nearer.

"We're trapped," George mumbled, feeling faint.

"Into one of these rooms, quickly," Dream ordered. "They'll think we'll be back there."

They barged into the first unlocked door they got to, closing it behind them as fast as they could. A surprised yelp sounded out from behind them, before turning into a confused "...Sapnap?"

The latter turned his head, turning pink. "Hey, Karl."

"What's going on?" the brunette asked. "Did I miss something at breakfast?"

"They're not here!" a muffled cry came from outside.

"We have to barricade the doors," Dream said urgently. "You'll have to go, sir."

"But this is my room," Karl protested. "Sapnap, what's happening?"

"No time to explain," Sapnap answered, grabbing a hold of the dresser. "You have to leave. George, help me here."

"I'm not going anywhere. You're not robbing me, are you?"

"No. I'm sorry Karl," Sapnap gave him a wry smile. "I wish you hadn't gotten involved in our mess."

"Wait! Don't do that," Karl called out. "It'll be more suspicious. Come hide in the bunk, and cover yourselves."

George and Sapnap let go of the dresser and ran over to the bed. The former squeezed himself at the top with Dream, while the latter scrambled towards the bottom. Sapnap watched through the thin blanket as Karl pretended to busy himself with the dresser, sorting through his belongings.

The sound of rooms being forced open was getting louder. George clasped his hand around the hilt of his dagger. Dream held him closely, keeping an eye on the door.

Finally, the door slammed open, and George could see the faint outlines of what was unmistakably Wilbur Soot, as well as a few other men.

"Can I help you?" Karl asked pleasantly.

"Terribly sorry, Ambassador Jacobs," the port-man's voice rang out. "There's rebels aboard the ship. I urge you to be careful."

"I'll keep an eye out, Captain," the ambassador replied. "Thank you for the warning."

"Say, your bed is quite lumpy, isn't it?" Wilbur stated. Dream tightened his hold around George, trying to stay as still as possible despite his trembling frame.

"Oh, I needed to ask for more pillows," Karl replied. "It's just what I'm used to back at home."

"I see." Wilbur's eyes narrowed. He glanced around for another moment before leaving.

"My apologies again, ambassador," the shipmaster said with a bow, and followed after Wilbur's party.

Karl let out another exhale and closed the door gently behind them, slumping against it. He waited until the ruckus grew farther away. "It's safe," he said.

Sapnap was the first to emerge. "Ambassador?"

Karl shrugged. "Rebels?"

"...I guess." Sapnap shrugged in turn. "I mean we did steal away their king's fiancé on their wedding day..."

Karl's brows raised to his forehead. "Oh!" His eyes flickered over to George, who hung his head low. "Huh."

Dream squeezed George's shoulder comfortingly. "Thank you for your help," he said curtly. "We really should be going."

"Oh. Well. Will I see you again?" Karl asked softly, rubbing his arms subconsciously. "For another round of cards, maybe?"

"I hope so," Sapnap replied somberly, sparing him one last glance before heading out.

They quietly made their way outside, taking care not to let their footsteps sound too loudly.

"Up the deck and down the side, that's where the boats are."

"What if they're waiting for us?" George whispered harshly. "We're _trapped._ "

"My, I do hope we aren't interrupting anything," Wilbur's voice drawled out from behind them.

Dream turned to grab his bow, yet a harsh force shoved him down to his knees, tying his hands behind his back. He whipped his head around to see Sapnap suffering the same fate, their supplies clattering to the ground. 

George stood frozen in shock, gripping his dagger tightly in front of him. Wilbur looked worse than when he'd last seen him. A thin, red gash ran along his cheek. His hair was wild and untamed, and soot dusted his clothes. Maybe Bad did try to protect them after all, but ultimately failed.

"Are these the rebels you're looking for, sire?" asked the shipmaster. "They've presented me with the Red Duke's ring."

"Yes," Wilbur replied calmly. "You've done well for the Crown."

"Any reward, milord?" The captain's fingers twitched. Wilbur ignored him, heading straight towards George.

"Stay away," George said, the tremor in his voice betraying him. "I won't hesitate to hurt you."

"In front of all these good people?" Wilbur said. "You disgust me." He glanced towards Dream and Sapnap, who were still being accosted by the guards. "If you know what's good for you, then you'll come along quietly."

Dream raised his head and shook his head _no,_ earning him a harsh kick from the knight.

"Stop!" George cried, sheathing his blade again. "I'll go with you. Just leave them be."

"I thought so," Wilbur sneered, a hint of a smile curling his lips.

George stilled as he felt one of the guards binding his hands with a similar rope, tight against his wrists and chafing his skin. Two men flanked either side of him, grabbing him roughly by the arms as they dragged him off. He spotted Wilbur throwing the shipmaster a small pouch of silver, and right as they turned the corner, he saw Karl's crestfallen face.

* * *

"You thought you could get away that easily?" Wilbur laughed behind them as they crossed the gangway towards Techno's frigate. "You burn down my camp, injure my men, and leave the kingdom at risk with your _tomfoolery._ Aren't you ashamed?"

 _Burn down... Burn down._ George summoned his fire towards his fingertips, yet it was as if he was back at the beginning. He could _feel_ the surge of his power beneath his skin, yet it felt like it was all being blocked off.

"Don't even bother, Dragonborn," Wilbur hissed. "That little detour you had through Cacitine was _quite_ helpful, you know. Gave us access to some... oh what was it? _Fire resistance._ " George and Sapnap paled. "Would've been rather useful since day one, don't you think?"

They were thrown unceremoniously onto the deck, and the ship began sailing off. "How did you know we were at Cacitine?" George muttered. "Did Bad lead you there?"

"No, _you_ did." Wilbur turned towards one of his men, utterly unremarkable save for one tiny detail that made George's heart sink down into his chest: a white bird was perched on his shoulder, a scrap of red fabric tied around one of its legs.

_"Just a bird. Maybe it was the magician's dove."_

"Magical, isn't it," Wilbur mused, "how these pigeons can find their way back home through any weather. My poor Peter made his way here just as my spies have received the news. Awfully cocky, weren't you, walking out in the open?"

"Leave him alone!" Dream yelled.

Hypssen's passenger ship was already out of sight, leaving them surrounded by nothing but the open ocean. He couldn't teleport them out of there even if he wanted to.

Wilbur ignored his shouts, hoisting George up by the arm. He grabbed the dagger from its scabbard and inspected it against the light. "Such a fine thing you've got here," he murmured. "I'd use it on you had the King not requested you remain alive. Oh well, it's not like you'll have any more use for it." He threw it by one of his soldiers' feet, ignoring the yelp that came along with it, and started dragging him away.

"At least somebody here will be _especially_ glad to see you again."

Panic rose in George's chest as he thrashed against Wilbur's grip. " _NO!_ " he cried in despair. "No! Let me _go!_ "

"George!" Dream shouted, struggling against his captors. "No! Unhand him!"

"You're going to suffer for everything you've ever done, you traitor!"

"It's not his fault!" Sapnap screamed, his voice ringing out clearly. " _I_ was the one responsible for the fires!"

"Sapnap..." George whimpered pitifully.

"I was the one who lit the castle during the wedding," Sapnap continued, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. "I was the one who burned down your camp in the forest. George doesn't deserve to suffer for my crimes."

Wilbur turned to face him fully, appraising him. "I consider myself a fair judge," he spoke. "And this sounds like a valid confession to me." He snapped his fingers, and the men surrounding Sapnap hauled him to his feet.

"Sapnap!" Dream cried, jerking his arms in an effort to free himself. "Don't do this!"

"Do what you want to me, just let them go!" Sapnap shouted angrily.

"You don't get to have a say in what happens to them, you _bastard,_ " Wilbur seethed. With another heated cry from Sapnap, they threw him off the ship with a large _splash._

" _Sapnap!_ " Dream and George screamed, futilely trying to reach for him.

"Get rid of the other one too," Wilbur said nonchalantly. "He's the one who took the Dragonborn from us." A sadistic grin spread across his face. "He deserves no mercy."

"Dream!" George yelled, helpless to do anything but watch as his lover was dragged towards the edge of the ship. " _NO!_ " If he didn't drown first, the amount of water against his bare skin would surely kill him, give or take a few hours. "DREAM!"

"George," Dream whimpered, bucking and thrashing, and then he was whisked away into his watery grave. For all his effort, a single barrel came tumbling down after him.

"Dream..." George's throat was raw from the screaming. "Sapnap... no..." A choked sob made its way out of his lips. "Please... Leave me be, please..."

"Lower the sails!" Wilbur ordered. "And bring him to the captain's quarters. His Majesty's waited long enough."

Dream struggled to keep his head above the water, his heart breaking off into a million splinters as he saw George being dragged away into his hellish prison, into a fate worse than death. The ship steadily moved away, the wind carrying its sails quickly towards the horizon, until it was but a speck in his vision. He felt numb all over, an agonized sob escaping him as his limbs refused to cooperate with him.

 _He had to find Sapnap._ The rope chafed against his skin, the water irritating it moreso. _He had to find Sapnap._ George was taken from him again, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. _He had to find Sapnap._

_He had to—_

Dream shook his head, looking around desperately for his friend. There was nothing around but clear skies and open waters. His legs thrashed beneath him in an attempt to keep himself upright.

"Sapnap!" he called out frantically. "Sapnap, where are you?" He was growing tired. He wished they didn't tie the ropes so tightly. "Sapnap!"

_Stay alive._

He spotted the empty barrel floating not far from him, and he tried to hoist himself on top of it, his abdomen pressed tightly against the wooden surface. He wondered if he could cut the ropes on the side of the cask and free himself.

A sudden splash sounded out from behind him, then a cough, and like him, the Pyrokene was struggling to keep himself afloat. "Dream! Help me!"

Dream attempted to push the barrel in his direction, until Sapnap could reach inside of it, poking his head inside.

"We have to go back," Dream rasped. "He needs us. Use your blade to cut us free. _Please._ "

"I can't," Sapnap sniffled. "I _tried_ so hard... I just couldn't..."

"It's okay, it's okay." _It wasn't._ "Try to keep us afloat. I'll try untying you." Dream fell back into the water, pressing his back against Sapnap's as he worked on loosening his ropes.

"I'm sorry," Sapnap sobbed. "I wasn't thinking right. I—I put us in danger _again._ "

Dream shushed him gently, trying not to panic. The rope was slipping from his fingers, _shit,_ and Sapnap was getting tired from kicking his legs, too. Even if they managed to free themselves, what then? Where would they go? Back to the ship? It's too late, it's _already_ too late, and he couldn't bring himself to imagine what George was going through right now.

Hearing him _scream_ had been bad enough.

Besides, they wouldn't stand a chance, having no weapons and even less armor. Dream supposed he should be grateful that they didn't deign to stab them before throwing them overboard.

With one last tug, he managed to untie Sapnap's binds, the rope falling harmlessly into the water. Sapnap flexed his hands and rubbed his arms gratefully, working on untying Dream as well. Unsure of what else to do, the Ender used his Eye to look for a suitable place to teleport—land, debris, _anything_. The water was starting to sting his skin, and he had to go and dry off quickly before it got worse.

Suddenly, in the distance, he could see another ship approaching them. The rope came loose around his hands. He clung tightly onto the barrel as he watched it get closer.

"Sapnap," he rasped, "I need you to trust me."

"What are you thinking?" Sapnap asked, squinting at something in the horizon. Without another word, Dream grabbed his arm, and they were gone in the blink of an eye.

They reappeared on yet another deck, their sudden entrance earning them several weapons pointed in their faces.

"No! Stand down!"

Sapnap growled as BadBoyHalo came into view, his face stricken with panic. The rest of the crew left them alone at his request. "What are you two doing here?" the duke queried.

"You _bastard,_ " Dream growled, tears pricking his eyes. "You said you'd keep Everial away from us!" He stumbled on his feet, heaving to catch his breath.

" _Everial?_ " Bad echoed, his eyes wide. "How did they—? Where's George?"

At that, Dream lost his composure. He broke down into sobs, falling to his knees and covering his face with red, splotchy hands. "They have him," he cried, his voice cracking slightly, "they have my poor George."

"What are _you_ doing here?" Sapnap seethed.

"I saw a couple of their soldiers too late in the docks last night, when I was looking for medicine," Bad said quietly. "They boarded a rowboat and must've used that to get to the frigate. I feared that they'd be trying to go after you, so Skeppy and I went looking for a ship of our own." 

"Guess what," Sapnap laughed harshly, "they did. And now, George..." Dream let out an agonized wail beside him.

"They must've come from Gomodara," Bad thought aloud. "That's why we didn't see them. Believe me, Sapnap, we would've tried to stop them if we could."

"He's right," Skeppy's voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he hobbled over to them, staying right beside Bad. "Don't worry. We'll get him back."

"I've still got George tethered," the duke said. "We won't be far behind."

Dream only nodded miserably as Sapnap held him in an attempt to comfort him. He was numb even as Skeppy led them towards one of the cabins, ignoring the angry, _angry_ whispers in his ears. He sat on the hammock, clutching a pillow close to his chest, and wept.

* * *

In the rank, musty brig of the _Tyrian Hawk_ , George sat with his knees huddled together. His hands were still bound against his back, sore and aching after his numerous attempts to rid himself of it, but the pain of that was nothing compared to the pit of despair growing in his chest.

If he'd thought that getting captured by Wilbur was bad enough, this time, it was worse. At least then, he had the hope of keeping Dream and Sapnap safe and alive to cling on to. Now, they were dead at the bottom of the ocean, and he would never get to see them again.

Even if they were somehow alive, the ship had already gone too far for them to try and catch up to, and it wasn't like Dream could teleport himself straight to his location without being instantly drained of his energy. The fire resistance must've been affecting Sapnap's blade too, or else he would've easily cut through the ropes.

His blooming friendship with the feisty Pyrokene withered in his palm, just as they were finally starting to get along. Sapnap was brave, trying to take the heat off of him for a moment, but George wished he hadn't said anything at all. Maybe then Wilbur would've spared them, and he would be the only one who had to suffer.

Maybe then he would've still had the slightest chance to hold Dream in his arms again, warm and loving and oh-so-gentle with him. If George knew that things would come to this, he would've held onto him a little longer, kissed him a little harder, shown how much he loved him a little better.

He hated how his last memory of them was their fearful faces just before they were hurled away so cruelly.

Wilbur had thrown him in the captain's quarters afterwards, where he scrambled to get as far away as possible from the man sitting on the bed. Technoblade looked different from how George remembered him, much _redder,_ fitting for the Blood God himself. His icy gaze struck through his very soul as he regarded him with equal parts distaste and interest, eyeing him up and down.

"And so he returns, the lost lamb," Techno began in a low monotone voice. "Tell me, Dragonborn, did you have fun on your little _adventure?_ "

George met him with silence, glaring at him contemptuously.

Techno clicked his tongue and sighed. "If you returned much earlier, you would've been Prince Consort, you know. Should I have offered to make you King too, to make you stay?"

"I don't want _anything_ to do with you," George spat, unable to hold back his tongue.

"So you _can_ talk," Techno scoffed. "Not that it's a surprise; you were making such a ruckus out there, screaming your lungs out." George ran towards the door as soon as he saw the king stand up. His fingers fumbled for the handle, but Techno was quicker, grabbing him by the shoulders and hauling him towards the bed. 

"Let go of me!" George howled, tears pooling in his eyes. "Don't touch me, you bastard! Stay away from me!"

"I'll give you something to scream about," Techno sneered, shoving him onto the mattress. He cupped George's cheek with one rough palm. "Such a shame. You're a pretty one too; pity that beauty is wasted on beasts like you."

George screamed until his throat ran dry, kicking at him with all his might, until Techno pulled down at his collar, and he _froze._

It seemed that Techno had done the same, eyes wide with disgust. "I _see,_ " he said in a chilling whisper. "You let them use you like the good-for-nothing whore that you are, did you? Had fun getting all your little holes filled?"

"I loved him," George scowled, lifting his chin high. "And that's more than I could ever say for _you._ "

"As if anyone else could love filth like you. I _own_ you. You serve me, and no one else. And you've let yourself be sullied by _monsters._ "

" _You're_ the fucking monster," George hissed through gritted teeth. "You're worse than all of us halflings combined."

A sudden _smack_ rang through the air. George gaped in shock, his left cheek stinging, hot and red from the force of Techno's slap. A faint line of blood pricked out of the shallow cut made from his ring. The king grabbed his face harshly with one hand, making him wince at the pressure.

"Listen here, you pathetic _worm,_ " Techno growled. "It's _your_ kind's fault that the Great Decay even reached us in the first place. It's up to _us_ to fix your stupid mistakes now, is it?"

George wrenched his head out of Techno's grip. "I said, _don't touch me._ "

"Acting rebellious won't get you your little lover back."

George ignored the sharp pang in his chest. "You'll never get my cooperation either, no matter what you do to me."

Techno barked out a laugh. "If you hate my hospitality so much, I don't see the need to treat you any differently than the lowly scum that you are."

For a split second, George feared that Technoblade might actually try something on him—that is, until he saw him turn towards the door.

"Wilbur!" Techno shouted. "Send him to the brig. We reach the Moorlands in a day."

"You're taking me to the Moors...?" George blanched.

"We're going to face the root of the problem, my dear," Techno said with a mocking grin. "A little songbird told us that you're the key to unlocking the portal to the Wither."

"I can't do that," George whispered, finding it harder and harder to breathe. "I'm not the one you need."

"Don't be ridiculous," Techno scoffed just as Wilbur arrived to drag him away again. "That's what you were going to do, weren't you? Coming to free that thing in our world and spreading your destruction?" George shook his head desperately, but Techno was having none of it. "You've lost your chance at mercy the moment you chose that boy over me, Dragonborn. It's over."

And now he was alone in his cell, shivering and miserable. It could've gone much, _much_ worse, and he shuddered to think what could've happened. The sound of soft footsteps roused him from his wallowing, and he was surprised to see a familiar face.

"Fundy," he rasped. "I never thought I'd be glad to see you again."

"As am I," the Vosune said quietly, clearing his throat. "You were right. The foxgloves, I mean. They worked." A sad smile graced his face. "You were right about Wilbur lying to me."

"Why are you here?" George asked, forcing himself to look him in the eye.

"I want to help you in return," Fundy replied. "I saw what happened on the deck earlier—"

" _Everybody_ did."

"—and I can make sure that they won't hurt you any more than they already have." Guilt flashed in his eyes. "I failed to stop them from sending word about your location in Cacitine. I won't be a coward anymore."

"Then get me out of here," George begged. "Throw me off the ship and let me die. It will be the greatest mercy you can do for me."

"But we need you," Fundy said, alarmed. "We can finally stop this plague once and for all."

George shook his head. "I'm not the one you're looking for." He told him what Bad had said to them back in the inn, about the portal, and the Moors, and the Enders. "And now he's _dead._ We will never open the portal, and they'll kill me as soon as they find out." He laughed bitterly. "Better get this over with sooner than later."

Fundy pressed his palm against the wooden grid separating them, concern all over his face. George crumpled down and sobbed, making his way over to him and resting his head against Fundy's phantom touch. 

"Do you want to tell me about him?" the knight asked kindly, taking a seat on the ground. George did the same, nodding slightly. 

"His name was Dream," he began softly. "I loved him _so_ much." He closed his eyes, forcing himself to burn his memories of the Ender into his mind, until he was sure that he'll never forget him. "I was only a scribe, hearing and reading tales of adventure. He _breathed_ it." A small chuckle left his lips. "I never knew what he saw in me, but he loved me back. He returned to our village under the excuse of needing to chart more courses, but one day he just didn't leave at all."

_"Why are you still here?"_

_"You're kicking me out already, George?" Dream asked, fake hurt in his expression. "I thought you loved me."_

_"Oh shut up, you idiot," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You know you don't usually stay this long."_

_"I find Founetter fascinating, that's all," Dream hummed, looking George in the eye. "It really is very beautiful here."_

_"Our village is a dime a dozen," George said. "There's nothing special in here."_

_"You're such an idiot," Dream laughed. "Maybe you should look a little closer. Appreciate what you've got."_

_"Then I suppose I should thank you for staying," George relented, mouth quirking up in a shy smile. "It's much more fun in here when you're around."_

He smiled fondly at the memory, feeling tears brimming in his eyes again. "He was right. I should've appreciated him more. Appreciated _them_ more."

"I can see why you loved him," Fundy said softly.

George nodded. "He just started courting me yesterday too," he laughed wetly. "We would've been _married..._ " He choked on his sobs, hiccupping slightly. "I would've—I—"

"Shh, shh," Fundy said hastily, holding out his hand again. "The other one—Sapnap, was it? Tell me about him."

"He's an _idiot,_ " George blurted out, sniffling and chuckling at the same time. "All we ever did was fight, until recently. He's a good friend, and a decent teacher." He frowned. "I wish we spent more time together."

"I may not know much, but I know they meant a lot to you." Fundy offered him a small smile. "They would've wanted you to live."

"But what if the portal doesn't open?"

"We don't have to go to the portal," Fundy assured him. "I don't have the keys, but I know Wilbur does. I'll help you escape, alright? Promise me you'll stay alive and I'll escape with you. We can't yet, not when everyone else is still out and about."

"Why are you doing this for me?" George murmured, taking in a deep breath.

"You helped me realize something," Fundy replied. "Besides, I have someone to get back to."

George's brows furrowed in confusion. "I thought your clan—"

"Not my clan." Fundy shook his head, retrieving something from his coat: a single, violet bloom, shaped like a trumpet and speckled on the inside—a foxglove. "Someone special to me. I promised them I'd see them again soon."

George saw the fondness in his eyes, even as he tucked the flower back in his pocket. He couldn't deny Fundy his happiness, as the man had so graciously offered him a ray of hope in his darkest hour.

"Okay," he finally said with a wry smile. "I'll help you get back to them, just as you've done for me."

"Hey," Fundy said sincerely, grinning widely. "You've got me in your corner too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She giveth and she taketh away. Welcome back to the angst train, loves! Now you know why Sapnap's acting sus.
> 
> If you manage to guess who Fundy's meeting I'll be very pleased.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ I've got a [CC](https://curiouscat.qa/gravitasfallen) now if you wanna talk! (＾∇＾)


	15. Lullaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Creative liberties go brrr
> 
> Also another [song recommendation!](https://youtu.be/qGS4G93Q0GI) This one is so good! It's more of an instrumental rather than a song but still!
> 
> Warning for mentions of injuries!

Sapnap paced around the deck, gripping the railings as he stared on ahead. He could see the faint outline of Technoblade's ship, a small speck in the distance. Bad had decided that it would be safer if they trailed a few ways behind the _Tyrian Hawk_. No point in risking an attack when they didn't even know where George was being held captive.

"Be patient, Bad!" Skeppy's annoyed voice sounded out from the wheel. "We should be QUIET! Not alert them that we're here!"

"If there's anything we aren't Skeppy, it's SUBTLE!" Bad groaned.

"Oh you'd _love_ to be subtle, wouldn't you?"

" _SKEPPY!_ "

Sapnap rolled his eyes and huffed in faint amusement. How anyone ever thought that they weren't involved was beyond him—they seemed to be finding every excuse they could to touch the other. Even now, where the Red Duke was hovering behind the King of Invidel, constantly torn between checking the wet remains of Dream's (somewhat legible) map and humoring Skeppy's antics.

Granted, he was the one with any solid lead on George, but he just wished they'd hurry it up. His hands were itching to unleash hell on the ship, starting with the Earl, the great bastard. Maybe even Techno, if he truly was onboard. Then again, he should save that pleasure for Dream.

Dream who, the last time he saw him, was still quiet in the cabins.

Sapnap sighed. He supposed he'd left him alone long enough. The poor man had been absolutely devastated, but honestly, who could blame him? There had been one too many close calls in the past, and this one was the worst yet. They've lost everything but their lives.

He pushed the door open, unsurprised to see him sitting idly on the hammock, staring at his bow, a spare, salvaged thing that one of the crewmates had kindly lent them. A linen blanket was still wrapped around his shoulders, one that Skeppy had given them to dry them off.

"Hey," Sapnap started, taking a seat next to him. Dream acknowledged him with a little nod. He frowned. "It wasn't your fault."

Dream's grip tightened around the bow, one hand unconsciously drifting towards the scar on his side. "I could've teleported us out of there."

"You couldn't have."

"I _should've_ been able to." Dream shut his eyes. "I'm the most useless Ender in the world."

"No you're not," Sapnap insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You did the best you could. Even if you got us back on the ship to Hypssen, they would've still tried to go after us. There's nothing more we could've done."

"Thanks for trying, Sap." Dream gave him a somber smile. "But I think I'd like to be alone for now."

Hurt flashed across his face for a second. How could Dream give up so easily? He was acting as though George had already died, the poor thing, when they were already on their way to save him, goddammit! The Sapnap from a few days ago would've reveled in his disappearance, but now he'd be willing to put his life on the line for him. Now there was only heaviness within him.

Strange... his eyelids feel heavy too... but that should be impossible for someone as fueled by adrenaline as he was. It was the middle of the afternoon, for crying out loud! A faint song reached his ears, lulling and calming him down easily. He shook his head to clear his mind. _What was going on?_

Sapnap grabbed Dream by the arm, the latter already feeling drowsy, swaying slightly. "We have to get out of here," he said seriously. "Something's wrong."

He hauled him over to the deck, where half of the crew was already swaying on their feet, some blinking the sleep out of their eyes.

"Prismas!" Bad cried out.

"What do you mean?" Dream asked, alarmed.

"There!" Sapnap shouted, pointing to a figure bobbing beneath the water.

There were five or six of them patrolling the boat, crystalline scales shimmering in hues of teal and blue and brown. Every so often, Sapnap would catch a glimpse of their sharp fangs, and repress a shudder. _Thank goodness they weren't around while they were stranded..._

"There must be a monument nearby that they're protecting," Bad surmised. "Drown out their voices! We'll be the ones drowning if we fall asleep!"

Skeppy started yelling at the top of his lungs, spewing out garbled nonsense as Bad joined him. Dream and Sapnap joined the crew in a flurry of incoherent nothings, trying their best to ignore the pleasant pull of the melody.

"There's a reason why they call this the _Cerise_ ule Ocean," Bad said grimly.

"Do they know about this?" Dream asked desperately, his eyes fixed on Techno's ship.

"I don't think they do," Sapnap said, dread rising in him as he peered out the railings.

Suddenly, a trident shot out of the waters. Sapnap drew back in fright, the weapon clattering harmlessly on the deck. It immediately shot back into the hand of one Prisma, who was glaring contemptuously at them with its singular eye.

Their song had grown louder, sweeter, and a great force suddenly hit the side of the hull. Dream pulled Sapnap away by the scruff of his neck, aiming his bow towards one of the offenders. His shot, while accurate, was utterly useless underwater, and the Prisma swiftly dodged it anyway.

"Just let us pass!" Sapnap yelled, annoyed. "We don't want anything to do with your stupid monument!"

"Bad!" Skeppy screamed, pointing at Everial's ship. It was slowing down, veering off to the right, approaching a ring of raised rocks.

" _George!_ " Dream yelled in a panic, gripping the rails forcefully, his knuckles white from the pressure.

"I can try getting us close enough!" Skeppy shouted over the chaos. "Will you be able to get him in time?"

Dream spared him a glance before turning his gaze back to the slowing ship. "Yeah," he said, swallowing down his fear. "Anything. I'll do anything for him."

Sapnap and Bad gave him a nod. "Take off your cloak," the latter said. "You'd stick out like a sore thumb."

Dream obliged, closed his eyes, and disappeared.

* * *

Dream gasped and stumbled down, finding purchase on a wooden desk bolted down to the ground. He found himself in a bedroom, one with a proper bed instead of a sheet tied between two poles. Maps and silk lined its walls, and he realized with a growing mixture of horror and relief that he was in the captain's quarters. It was empty, much to his surprise, and there didn't seem to be any trace of George anywhere.

_They couldn't have killed him yet, could they?_

The door opened beneath his fingers with nary a creak. The opening was small, but it was all that he needed. His Eye scanned the deck for any immediate threats—Techno was busy fighting off a couple of Prismas, and it seemed that half the crew was already asleep.

Dream felt begrudgingly thankful towards Bad; if he hadn't said anything, they would've been suffering a similar fate.

"Steady, men! Don't let these bastards get you down!" Wilbur's voice rang out. He was already running towards the helm, no doubt to replace the person who'd fallen asleep there.

Dream took the opportunity to slip off into the chaos and down the hatch, where the rest of the ship must be. He nervously gripped the bowstring slung around his chest, keeping an eye out for any wary guards. Would they have stored George into one of these cabins? Did they already throw him off the ship? No, they couldn't have; they wouldn't be heading towards the Moors otherwise, like Bad had told them. Besides, the mere thought of George getting killed— _disposed of,_ really... Dream felt bile creeping up his throat.

In his musings, he failed to notice one soldier creeping up behind him, quickly grabbing him by the shoulder. Dream took a sharp breath and placed a hand on his bow, but the soldier merely put up a finger to his own lips.

"Are you here for George?" The man whispered. "I can help you." He brought up a hand to reveal a set of keys.

Dream's eyes widened in alarm before narrowing in suspicion. "How do I know you're not bluffing?"

The man retrieved a familiar object from his coat and handed it to him. "Is this good enough proof for you?" Dream turned the Vexite dagger over in his hands, still surprised by the turn of events. "Come on. We have no time left to lose."

Dream wordlessly followed the soldier down several steps and into the brig, dank and reeking of filth. Part of him still suspected that he was still being led down into a trap, but now that he had George's dagger in his hands again, he suddenly didn't feel so sure anymore.

Finally, they stopped.

Dream's heart dropped in his chest at the sight of the figure in the cell, curled up into a small ball on the ground. The soldier unlocked the door, and Dream's immediate instinct was to bring George into his arms, scooping him into a tight embrace.

"George," he rasped, feeling the hot tears forming in his eyes. "George, darling, wake up. I'm here. I've got you."

"I'll make sure nobody comes in here," the soldier said firmly.

"Thank you, er...?"

"Fundy." He nodded his head curtly and left the room with a small smile.

Dream turned his attention back to the man in his arms, fretting over him. His breathing seemed to be even—which was _good,_ he might just be sleeping—but there was a cut on his cheek that he knew wasn't there before. He quickly got to cutting George out of his binds, tossing the offending remains into the farthest corner of the cell. He thumbed over the marks that the ropes left on George's arms, frowning deeply at the sight of them.

"Oh, George," he murmured, holding him even closer. "I'm so sorry."

George let out a small groan, blinking his eyes wearily as he shuddered and shivered in Dream's hold. "Am I already dead...?" he whispered, hacking out a cough.

"No," Dream whispered back, pressing his nose onto George's hair. "I've got you, George. I'm here. I love you."

"An angel's come for me," George sobbed, reaching out a hand to cup Dream's bare cheek. "I know Dream died right before my very eyes."

"No, no George, I'm _alive,_ " Dream murmured, bringing George's fingers to his lips and giving them a light kiss. "I'm getting us out of here, darling. I'm here for you."

"Dream..." George hiccuped. "How did you...? I thought that you—!"

"Bad's ship saved us," Dream replied. "Sapnap's waiting for us. I'll take you there, and we'll be home soon, okay?"

"Home...? _Bad...?_ " George suddenly seemed more awake. "Why is he here? How did _you_ get here?"

"Later," Dream promised. "I'll tell you everything later. For now, I have to make sure that _he_ will never lay a finger on you ever again."

"He didn't touch me."

"But he _hurt_ you." Dream's mismatched gaze fell over to the scar on his cheek. "And that's more than enough reason for me to kill him."

George's mouth quirked up into a small smile, until his eyes dawned in realization. "But wait, Fundy—"

"He helped," Dream replied. "He unlocked the cell and gave me this." He offered the dagger back to George. The latter stared at it in surprise before sheathing it back in its scabbard.

"He said he was planning to escape," George said. "I don't suppose we could take him with us?"

Dream's brows furrowed together. "Oh, but—"

Someone suddenly rapped on the door. "Fellas, I don't mean to intrude, but we have to hurry if we want to make it out alive!"

"I'll think about it," Dream told George firmly, before suddenly pulling him into a deep kiss that stole the breath right out of his lungs. "I hope that's enough to keep you awake for the next few minutes."

"D-Dream?!" George sputtered, turning red. He let Dream drag him towards the door, where Fundy was waiting.

"The melody's getting stronger," the Vosune said, turning his head to the side. "I don't suppose you have any clue as to what's going on?"

"Prismas," Dream breathed. "Their songs lure their listeners to sleep. They're guardians, I think. We must be close to their territory."

"That explains why half of the crew is asleep then," Fundy observed. "How are you planning to leave the ship?"

"Get us to the crow's nest," Dream replied. "I can take it from there."

"But what about Fundy?" George asked.

"Don't worry George, I think I can handle myself." Fundy puffed up slightly with pride. "What matters now is not getting caught."

Their footsteps echoed lightly against the wooden planks, hearts hammering loudly in their chests. Each one hoped that the Prismas' singing would be able to drown out their noises, but it seemed that luck was not on their side as a thundering set of footsteps quickly echoed down their direction. Fundy dragged them down behind an empty crate, hidden in the darkness.

Dream squeezed George's hand as the soldier stumbled down past them and into one of the empty rooms. He peered down with his Eye, satisfied to see no further setbacks as Fundy led them to the deck, peeking out the hatch before scrambling out of it.

"Up there, quickly!" Fundy whispered harshly, pointing towards the main mast.

Techno was still locked in battle, peering over the railings in search for more Prismas, cuts and scrapes littering his robe. Meanwhile, Wilbur was staunchly defending the helm, until he saw the array of rocks waiting up ahead.

"Standby!" Wilbur yelled. "Hard to port!"

"Aye!" called out some of the crew.

The sudden turn caused George to slide into Techno, who stared at him in shock. The momentary distraction earned him a sharp jab from a Prisma's trident, slicing sharply at his arm.

"You—!" Techno shouted, clutching at his wound.

"Come on!" Dream screamed, grabbing George by the sleeve and dragging him away.

"There!" George shouted, pointing to the ratlines leading up the main mast.

While they scrambled to get to the top, a couple of soldiers had trailed after them, much to their chagrin. George summoned a small ball of flame between his thumb and forefinger, pleased that it _finally_ worked. He sent it curling beneath his feet, eating away at the knots of the ratline. The rest of the rope clattered down to the ground, and with it their pursuers.

"I've got it!" Wilbur yelled, reaching for a crossbow as he sent his attackers to the ground.

Fundy suddenly crashed into him, swaying on his feet as though he were a man possessed. The earl's shot landed harmlessly onto the mast, deeply embedding itself into the wood just above Dream's head. "I'm sorry!" the Vosune cried. "I'm just so _sleepy—_ "

"Get out of the way, you ingrate!" Wilbur shoved Fundy to the side, and aligned his shot again. Fundy rushed towards the helm and sent the ship spinning, causing the passengers on board to lose their balance.

" _Shit!_ " Dream yelped, missing his step. He held onto the rope for dear life as it swung from his momentum.

"You okay?" George asked, eyes wide.

"I'll be fine," Dream hissed, struggling to secure his foot onto the hold.

"I've got you, okay? I'll be here to catch you."

Suddenly, a bolt whizzed right in between them, just as Dream managed to lean out of the way. "George!"

"Hurry!" George cried, spurring him to climb up even faster.

"Don't just stand there, do something!" Wilbur ordered, readying another shot. "What the _hell_ was that, Fundy?"

"I'm sorry! The song was getting to me, I was so _tired—_ "

He suddenly yelped as a sword swung down where his head would've been, and found himself staring into Technoblade's narrowed eyes. "Get yourself together soldier," Techno ordered. "You're lucid enough if you can avoid that blow."

George quickly took Dream's hand as they hurried over the edge of the crow's nest, huffing and panting. He could see Fundy backing away from an enraged Techno, who must've realized where his loyalties lay. Wilbur suddenly shot at them, the bolt embedding itself in the wood and nearly piercing Dream's leg.

"Damn it!" Wilbur shouted. "I need to get higher!"

"Dream, where's the ship?" George asked frantically. 

"There!" The other pointed in the distance, where he could see its shadow in the horizon.

They suddenly heard a commotion down below, where Fundy had tackled Wilbur to the ground, wrenching the crossbow from his grip.

" _GO!_ " he cried.

"We can't—!" George blurted out.

"Wilbur, we've got a spy in our midst," Techno said slowly, and the Earl turned to face him in shock.

"After everything I've done for you..." Wilbur said, eyes wide.

"You _lied_ to me," Fundy said, shaking his head as he kept his finger on the trigger. "You said there'd be no other way... You said you'd protect me! But how could you kill all these people and claim you're here for me? It doesn't make any sense!"

"They were _monsters,_ Fundy," Wilbur said tightly. "They've abandoned you." He glanced towards the crow's nest. " _They_ will, too, you know."

Fundy faltered for a second.

"Let's get this over with, Wilbur," Techno began.

"Fundy, you're breaking my heart," Wilbur said, stepping closer to him. "Give me the crossbow, and everything will be forgiven."

"Everything?" Fundy said in a small voice.

"Everything," Wilbur replied with a warm smile.

Fundy took a step forward before turning tail and hopping off the side of the ship.

" _NO!_ " Wilbur shouted. "After him!"

"I knew I should've killed him from the start," Techno said with a disgruntled _tsk_. "Let him be. He'll die on his own." He stared up the main mast. "Plus, we've got bigger fish to fry."

Wilbur looked torn, watching unhappily as Fundy rowed away on a spare boat.

"He's gone," George mumbled.

"I don't think we could've gone with him anyway," Dream sighed. "I hope he gets where he needs to go."

"Get us out of here, Dream," George whispered. "I'll give us a proper sendoff." With that, he moved his hands over the wood, leaving a trail of purple sparks that immediately ignited upon contact.

"Mmm, _feisty._ " Dream grinned as George unleashed another barrage of flames down on the deck. "I like that. Let's go, George."

With that, they were gone in a flash.

* * *

Their landing wasn't the smoothest, with George falling over on top of Dream. He felt a pair of arms wrapping around his back, and a gentle voice whispering a " _hey there_ " in his ear. Too exhausted to do anything else, George lay his head properly on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

He's _alive._ He still couldn't believe it. He tightened his hold on the fabric of Dream's shirt.

"Look out!" Sapnap called out.

Tears brimmed in George's eyes, and he looked up just in time to see the Pyrokene swinging a trident over them, right arm bloodied and curved up into a golden blade. The Prisma shrieked in alarm and dived back into the water, leaving its trident behind.

"I trust the rescue went well?" Sapnap's jovial voice came over them, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he held out a free hand to help them up.

"You're _here,_ " George murmured, flinging his arms around Sapnap and burying his face in his shoulder. "You're both _alive._ "

"'Course," Sapnap said, sincerity in his voice as he embraced George back. "They can't get rid of us that easily."

"I think that's the last of them," Bad said, a sword in his hands. He quickly wiped away the blue blood staining its edges. "Say, George, are you still willing to continue the journey? Considering everything that happened..." He shuffled awkwardly from one foot to another. "I won't blame you if you decide to back out."

"No, we're finishing this once and for all," George declared with an air of finality. "They can't hurt us anymore."

As if on cue, they heard an explosion in the distance. They saw the bright, purple plume of flame rising high above the wreckage, followed by a column of smoke. Dream wrapped his arms around George, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. "The fire must've gotten to the gunpowder stores," he said.

"Nice work, George." Sapnap made a low whistle. "I doubt anyone survived that."

George's thoughts drifted over to Fundy, whom he hoped had gotten himself far enough to be unaffected.

"Don't invite bad luck in," BadBoyHalo chastised him. "Skeppy, get us out of here."

"Setting a course for the Moorlands," Skeppy replied. "You really should be the one doing this, Bad."

"I _know,_ " the duke replied, grinning. "But I don't want to."

Skeppy snorted. "Leaving me to do all the work again?"

Everyone could hear the slight pout in his voice. " _No!_ After I saved you from those mean old Prismas too... Oh my goodness."

"This is a cause for celebration though, isn't it?" Sapnap interjected. "Getting Everial off our tail, approaching our end goals?" He glanced at George, who was still nestled in Dream's embrace. "...Avoiding certain death?"

"But we left our supplies back on the other ship," Dream said. "We've lost all our rations again."

"Then it's a good thing Bad and I had some foresight," Skeppy replied with a dazzling grin. "Dig in lads, we're having a feast tonight!"

* * *

The festivities lasted well into the evening, with a couple of crewmates singing a little shanty, Skeppy and Bad harmonizing along and laughing at the other's attempts. Sapnap, George, and Dream sat and talked among themselves, relieved that none of the others had been seriously hurt. Every so often, Dream would catch a glimpse of George's scars, and guilt would eat up at him again.

"I'll go fetch myself some more ale," Sapnap said, patting Dream's leg. "Tell them to give you a bit of privacy."

"Thank you Sapnap," Dream said, as the other headed off. He then turned to George, who was laying his head onto his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"A little tired," George said with a faint smile, drawing Dream's cloak tighter around him. "But I'll be fine. I love you."

Dream tensed slightly beside him. "Oh..."

George quirked up an eyebrow. "Is anything wrong?"

"Nothing, I..." Dream moved his hand to cover George's, lacing their fingers together. "I never thought I'd be able to hear that from you again." He closed his eyes, heaving a sigh. "After that night in the woods with the Earl, I thought that would be the end of it. I thought I'd never have to fear losing you again."

"Oh, Dream..." George whispered, turning his head up to plant a kiss on his beloved's cheek. "I thought you died again, with Sapnap too. I—" He hiccupped, choking on unshed tears. "I thought I'd have to watch you die when I could've done _something..._ "

"No one would've wanted you to trade places with us..." The idea of George drowning in the endlessness of the dark ocean terrified Dream to the core. "But I sorely regret leaving you in _his_ hands."

"He didn't hurt me." He moved Dream's hand over to his collarbone, where he knew the other left a hickey— _several,_ really—the night before. "He backed away when he saw your marks." George's eyes grew soft, a little glazed, even. "I'm all yours, Dream. Nobody else can change that."

Dream drew him in for a tender kiss, cupping his jaw lightly as their lips met. They parted and joined together again and again, uncaring whether or not anyone else saw, or how their tears rolled down their cheeks, both in joy and in sorrow.

"I love you," George managed to get out in between kisses.  
  
"I love you too," Dream whispered against his lips. "Gods, I love you _so_ much, George. I can't think of living a life without you."

"Then promise me," George said softly, searching Dream's eyes, "that we'll both make it out of this alive."

"Anything for you," Dream murmured. "I promise, once everything's done, I'll take you to all my favorite places." He squeezed George's hand affectionately. "And then we'll get married in the spring."

"Truly?" George asked, his eyes sparkling.

Dream used two fingers to tilt his chin up before giving him another kiss. "Truly."

George let out a breathy giggle, and rested their foreheads together. "I'll hold you to that."

"I expect nothing less." Dream finally pulled away, eyes shining. "Hey. I'll get you some sweets. Would you like that?"

"You won't be long?" George murmured.

"Of course." Dream pressed a kiss onto his hair before standing up from the crate. "I'll be back."

George reached for the necklace in his tunic, clutching the pendant in one hand and pressing it close to his chest. In the brief period where he was captured, he didn't even have the luxury of holding it close. The crystal gleamed in the cool moonlight, and he couldn't hold back the fond smile on his face.

True to his word, Dream returned to his side bearing treasure, and George's eyes shone as he recognized it.

"Marzipan," he breathed, and Dream nodded enthusiastically, breaking it into two chunks. George gratefully took his half, savoring the nutty treat as he leaned into Dream's side.

"I remembered this time," Dream said, brushing back some of George's hair and thumbing gently at his cheek. It made his heart ache, but at the same time, he'd never felt so thankful for all the little touches.

"I'm glad you did," George responded sincerely, smiling warmly at him as they finished their sweets, content in each other's company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Guardians give you mining _fatigue_ haha get it (I was also kinda sleep-deprived when I wrote this sorry)  
> Also if you were diner anon on CC, is it alright if Polar and I run with your concept and turn it into a whole 50s AU? lol
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more!! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑
> 
> I've got a [CC](https://curiouscat.qa/gravitasfallen) if you want to talk about things (＾∇＾)


	16. The Moorlands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these characters are supposed to fully represent their persons. I'm aware I'll get their personalities wrong! Take them as **personas,** as you will, and especially don't harass anyone here. This is all meant in good fun. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> I accidentally got buried in schoolwork so I'm very sorry for the late update :')
> 
> Final few chapters!! Wooooo!!! Nothing too exciting in this one, though.
> 
> I am grateful to everyone who stuck around this long! 🥺👉👈 I've seen a couple folks recommending this fic and it made me real happy haha （*´▽｀*）thank you kindly!~ I hope I don't disappoint you.

"Land ho!" Bad shouted. This time, it was him behind the wheel, taking over for Skeppy while the other retreated back to his room to rest.

Sapnap stretched his arms above his head, pleased to hear the tiny crackles and pops sounding throughout his body. "I'll tell the others," he said, standing up from his place among the crates.

As he expected, George and Dream were curled up together on the hammock, the latter's arm wrapped protectively over the former. Sapnap tapped on Dream's arm, making him let out an ungodly snort as he roused himself, blinking the tiredness out of his eyes.

"We're approaching the island," Sapnap said. "I think you'd want to see it."

"Okay," Dream replied, his throat going dry. "Thank you. We'll be there shortly."

"I'll be at the helm with Bad if you need me." Sapnap waved before leaving them alone.

Dream shifted a bit, causing George to nuzzle closer into him. "Stop moving," the latter said, tiredness coating his voice. "Be a good pillow for me."

"We have to get up soon," Dream replied gently. "We're almost at the Moors."

George stayed quiet for a while, face buried in Dream's chest. The latter sighed and petted his hair absentmindedly. Anxiety fluttered in his chest. There's a lot that could go wrong, but if everything went well, they could do a lot of good.

"If I close my eyes, can I pretend that everything's going to be alright?" George finally said, voice muffled.

Dream ceased his petting. "Do you regret agreeing to continue?"

"No!" George pulled back for a bit, before guilt flashed across his face. "I mean— _maybe._ Bad might be right in that we could be the only ones who could do this... but I'm _scared,_ you know?" He reached out to cup Dream's cheek in one hand. "I just got you back."

"We'll always find each other again, George," Dream answered tenderly. "The past has proven that."

"What if this time, we don't?" George whispered quietly. "And I lose you for good?"

"You won't." Dream's mouth set itself into a firm line. "I'll make sure of it. I promise."

"Okay." George took a deep breath. "Okay, Dream. I trust you."

Dream pressed his nose onto his hair. "I love you, George."

"I love you too, Dream." George reached up to give his beloved a chaste kiss. "We'd better hurry before Bad gets mad at us."

"While I do think you look very handsome in that, I'd like to have my cloak back, please." Dream stared in faint amusement as George gave a tiny huff, slipping the garment off his shoulders before handing it to him. "I'll let you wear it again when everything's done."

George gave him a pleased smile at that before fetching Dream's satchel, which lay down next to his glasses. "What's in here anyway?" he asked. "You always seem to have something handy whenever we need it."

"Just some bare essentials," Dream replied, slinging the strap across his chest. "Let's see here... some cloth... a coin pouch, and the vials we made at the hut." His cheeks colored lightly at the memory of his confession. "There's a compass, and the map, but I believe Bad has it. That's everything I have."

George nodded, taking Dream's mask and fitting it snugly over the other's eyes. "There," he said with a small smile. "Now all you need is your bow and we'll be good to go."

Dream smiled and turned his head slightly to the side, kissing George's palm. "Perfect," he whispered. "I'll be right behind you."

By the time they got onto the main deck, Sapnap was already looking over the railings as the rest of the crew bustled around the ship, making sure that the sails were in condition and managing the rigging under Bad's orders.

"Look here," he said, pointing at the waters.

Dark sludge was spreading into the ocean, as if somebody had spilled a great inkwell and let its slurry mix in with the waters. The late morning sun rose high above their heads, lighting up the blue depths below. Something faint and foul lingered in the air, like the scent of rotting wood and dead fish.

"It looks awful," George murmured, feeling a little sick to his stomach. "How long has it been like this?"

"Since the beginning of the Great Decay, probably," Dream surmised. "Was it like this when Bad went out before, too?" He glanced at the Red Duke, who was still barking out commands, leaving them to their own business.

"Do you think they'd still stick around and wait for us after we leave?" Sapnap hummed, a little wary.

"I doubt they'd abandon us here, given that Bad seems so intent on asking for our forgiveness," George scoffed. "If they do, then that'd make for a terrible apology."

"Well, whatever happens, happens," Dream said resolutely. "If we have to fashion our own boats out of driftwood, we will."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Sapnap muttered, heaving out a sigh.

The island's form came into view, bordered by mountain ridges that towered high into the clouds. Once the ship drew closer, they were surprised to find it surrounded by a dense thicket of what appeared to be dead trees, their thick branches gnarled and clawing at the skies.

"I-I don't understand," Bad stammered, his brows knitted together in confusion. "It wasn't like _this_ before."

"What do you mean?" Dream asked.

"There's a lot more trees this time." Bad's grip on the wheel tightened. "I don't know what this means."

"Hopefully the path will still stay the same." Dream frowned. "The portal can't move, now, can it?"

"Well, we'll find out when we get there, won't we?"

"Wait, _we?_ " Dream interrupted.

"I'm going with you," Bad replied firmly. "We can find the portal faster this way."

"You're leaving the crew behind?" Sapnap asked, a bit alarmed.

"They have to send Skeppy home," the duke said quietly. "It's not safe for him out here."

"Does he know what you're planning to do?" George asked, shifting nervously.

"He does now."

They turned to see the king standing quietly on the deck, a sack tied and slung behind his back. Skeppy's mouth was drawn into a tight line, dark eyes boring into Bad's, as the latter tried his best to avoid his gaze.

"Is it true?" Skeppy repeated, his brows furrowed. "You're sending me back?"

"...It's for the best," Bad said, swallowing nervously.

"Why? _How?_ " Skeppy pushed past Dream, wincing a bit at his old injuries. "I'm not letting you go back there alone. You'll need all the help you can get, you know that."

"Skeppy, you've barely recovered from the other night." Bad grew frustrated, his voice quivering slightly. "I can't risk losing you. I don't care if you're my monarch; I'm not letting you die."

"What, and let _you_ suffer instead? I don't think so." He cupped Bad's cheeks in his hands. "We can have this same conversation _so_ many times, but my answer remains the same. I don't give a _damn_ about myself, but if you send me home now, you'll be practically sentencing me to death." He opened the sack to reveal some rations from last night's feast, as well as several bottles of what seemed to be health potions.

"Why do you... How did you—?"

"I got them when you left the inn," Skeppy said hesitantly. "The trader took pity on me." He moved to grab Bad's shoulders, squeezing his arms gently. "Please... I can help. I won't be a burden to you. I'd rather risk death than hear about yours."

"And..." Bad stammered, holding back a sob, "what will I say to the kingdom if _you_ die?"

"I won't let it come to that," Skeppy promised, brushing his tears away. "We'll all survive this together."

"Then will the whole crew have to come with us?" George asked.

"There's already a lot at risk," Dream answered. "Bad, it's still your call. We'll have to get home too, somehow."

The ship docked onto sandy loam, where nary a blade of grass even dared to grow.

"Sail the perimeter of the island," Bad called out. "If we don't return in a day, you may leave."

"That's a strict time limit," George laughed nervously.

"I don't know how anyone can stand this place for long," Bad replied. "It's a small mercy. Come on."

The soil crunched beneath their feet, exposing bits of broken, decaying bone. George suppressed a shudder as they ventured forth into the forest, led by Bad. Dream brought up the rear end of their line, bow primed and ready in case something dared to attack them.

"Look out!" Sapnap shouted, pulling Bad out of the way of a falling branch. It fell into the ground, where a number of red fungi immediately started to grow on its surface.

"Eugh." Skeppy wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Explains how quickly these trees came to be then, I think," Bad mumbled.

George's hand found Dream's again. The latter squeezed back.

"How far are we, Bad?" Dream asked.

"We're still a few ways away," the duke replied. "It's a little further in."

They passed a few caves, basaltic columns jutting out of porous cliff faces. The air switched between hot and cold and back again, and if it weren't for the sliver of sunlight passing through the gaps between the warped branches, they wouldn't have been able to tell what time it was at all. Still, for all its geological anomalies, there was a faint buzzing in the air, a sense of magic so strong that even Skeppy seemed to feel it.

Bad suddenly stopped at a clearing, causing the rest to bump into him.

Sapnap made a confused noise. "Wh—"

"Shh!" Bad whipped his head around, alarmed. "Did you hear that?" They stayed still for a few seconds, and then they heard it: the _flapping—_

"Get down!" Bad yelped.

A shadowy figure screeched in its terrible, breathy voice, swooping overhead as it tried to bite at one of them. Leathery, blue wings spread out on its back as it soared through the air, sticking to the shadows and rounding back for another attack.

"Run!" Sapnap yelled.

They all ran as fast as they could, the creature hot on their heels. Dream aimed at it with his bow, striking it true and causing it to double back into the light. It let out a wheezy scream of agony as it swiftly caught fire and disintegrated into ash.

"All we have to do is to get to the center of the island," Bad said, ducking his head. "I fear there may be more phantoms waiting for us."

"And how do we do that when there's so many of them?" Skeppy asked, eyes darting around.

Another shrill screech rang through the air as a couple of phantoms swooped past the trees.

"We power through 'em, that's how," Sapnap said with a grin, flames already settling onto his palm. He easily shot at them, fireball after fireball, deterring them from following further as they swiftly made their way through the undergrowth. Once they deemed it safe enough, they stopped to catch their breaths.

"We'd better keep an eye out for more mobs," George warned. "Think you can teleport to the top and look for anything suspicious?"

"I can try," Dream replied.

"Don't overexert yourself." George kissed his cheek before he left, reappearing on top of the branches of a large tree a bit further from where they were.

Dream kept a firm grip on the wood as he squinted into the distance, just as far as his Eye would allow him to. He tried to catch sight of any other mobs that might be lurking nearby, but the forest was too clumped to be of any use to him.

Suddenly, there, nearly hidden away in an array of twisted trunks, was a thing that he could only describe as a portal, carved in dark stone. Satisfied, he turned to lower himself carefully onto a nearby branch.

"Dream!" He heard George shout. He huffed out a laugh before teleporting over to his side, burying his face into his hair.

"I would've caught you," George giggled, turning to wrap an arm around his waist.

"Did you see anything?" Sapnap pressed.

Dream nodded. "The portal's not very far from here, we should probably get there before sundown."

* * *

"We should take a break," George declared. It was a bit late into the afternoon, the skies shining bright and golden through the trees. "We must be close to the portal anyway."

"I wish we'd brought horses," Skeppy lamented, settling down onto a stump. "My feet are getting tired."

"Maybe you should've stayed on the ship," Bad said lightly.

Skeppy snorted and wrapped his arm around Bad's, drawing him close and leaning his head onto his shoulder. "Try as you might, you'll never be able to convince me to stray too far from you."

Bad rolled his eyes, a soft smile lingering on his lips.

Sapnap suddenly turned his head, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Phantoms?" George whispered harshly.

Sapnap shook his head. "No, doesn't sound like them."

"We should probably leave regardless," Dream said.

The padding of feet against the rocky earth caught them off-guard, and something suddenly burst through the trees, knocking Dream down to the ground. The Ender was too shocked to do anything as pain immediately bloomed across his jaw, something sharp and bony striking his flesh.

"Get off of him!" George yelled, shooting a fireball at his attacker, sending it squealing away. "Fates... are you okay, Dream?"

Dream placed a shaky hand on his cheek, surprised to find crimson coating his palm. "Y-Yeah," he said. "What was _that?_ "

"It looked like a warthog, but it was bigger than anything I've seen before." Skeppy handed him a bottle. "Here. That could've gone worse."

"Thanks." Dream took a gulp, making sure to leave some just in case. He could immediately feel a pleasant tingle around the area, feeling his wounds closing up. He tentatively moved his jaw, wincing slightly.

"Can't have anyone dying before we reach the portal now, do we?" Skeppy laughed nervously.

"Thought it would've gored you," Sapnap said. "Good thing Georgie acted fast. Come on, we really should hurry."

"You're right," Dream replied as George helped him up, clinging tightly onto his arm. "Let's go."

* * *

When BadBoyHalo first brought up the portal, George wasn't sure what he was expecting. Maybe something a bit more elaborate, something that would leave him in as much awe as the myths had. Something that would make it stand out as the gateway between the arcane and the mundane.

Instead, it was but a large, flat hunk of obsidian stood atop a short couple of steps, hollowed out and carved into a crude frame. Nothing about it was particularly interesting, save for the bits of crimson rock that lingered around its base, and the trail of rot that seeped out and around it.

"How do we open it, Bad?" Dream asked. "You said you needed an Ender to set off the portal."

"I'm not too sure, honestly," Bad admitted, wringing his hands again. "The legends spoke of Enders closing it, but never anything on how they made it. Nobody would've wanted to return there again, surely. Or worse, release an even greater threat into this side."

"Have you read anything about it, George?" Sapnap asked.

As George tried to recall what he'd learned over the years, Dream meandered around the frame. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a series of carvings etched into its sides, worn and faded with time. There was a small hollow at the top, cracked at the edges as though someone had forcefully pried something from it. Frowning, he placed a finger onto it, wondering if it was the piece they were missing.

Suddenly, purple light sprung from the cracks, right where his bloody fingertips had touched it. It continued down the carvings, filling the area with a bright glow that pulsed once, then twice, before dimming down into faint shimmer.

"What did you do?" Bad asked, awed.

"I just touched it," Dream said, a bit frightened. "I didn't mean to."

"Is it open?" Skeppy pressed.

Dream picked up one of the red rocks and hurled it through, unsurprised when it only landed on the other side. "Figures," he mused, returning to their side. "It's still unopened. Bad was right when he said that Enders had a hand in it, but maybe we weren't the only ones."

George squinted at the portal, humming in surprise. "That's interesting."

"What is?" Sapnap asked curiously.

"That looks odd." George removed his spectacles. There, in the blue and yellow fields of his perception, he could see the shimmering light of a hue he can't quite place, etched into a looping scrawl of words that felt familiar on his tongue. "Stand back."

He summoned forth a stream of flame that ignited the center of the portal, running up the sides and giving off an iridescent shimmer, luminous in the small clearing. The air seemed to shift around them, heavy with a deep, thrumming energy that each one could feel in his bones.

" _Dragonfire,_ " George said simply, putting his glasses back on. "I guess we were _both_ needed, in the end."

Sapnap tossed another rock into it. This time, nothing passed behind the portal. "It's finally opened," he breathed.

"I hope we won't regret this," Skeppy murmured.

"I'll go first," Bad said firmly, ignoring Skeppy's noise of protest. "I'm the reason we're here after all." He made his way up the steps, heart beating loudly in his chest, and disappeared.

"Bad!" Skeppy shouted. "Come back!"

Within the span of fifteen seconds, Bad had faded back into view, stepping out of the portal, trembling slightly. Skeppy immediately rushed to his side, cradling him in his arms.

"How was it?" the king asked anxiously. "Is it safe? Are you alright?"

"It's worse than we thought," Bad grimaced. "We have to hurry."

"We're not risking going back in there," Skeppy replied.

Bad flashed him a frustrated stare. "You said you'd help. This is our last chance to."

"I am." Skeppy's gaze darkened, slightly hurt. "I will."

George, Sapnap, and Dream followed behind quietly, stepping out of their reality, and into the unknown.

* * *

The skies were red.

Dark clouds rolled over the realm, as if a storm was about to brew. The heat prickled at George's skin for once, leaving him confused. He could see the stone that Sapnap had thrown earlier, and before it, the sprawling remains of an ancient civilization. The terrain sloped gently downwards into thick soils and red, rocky grounds, littered with tall, ruined towers of purple and yellow brick, as well as the skeletal remains of what once might have been its inhabitants.

There, in the distance, stood a tall, imposing structure made of blackstone. George would have described it as a castle, the remnants of a bastion, crumbling and worn down over the years. It must've been where the Wither was trapped, if the sharp signs and smells of decay were anything to go by.

Surrounding them was a forest of red and blue wood. The dagger that hung on his side felt a little heavier, a little more _real._

This was it, the single most important battle that he had to fight.

Dream stood at his side and laced their fingers together. George squeezed back just as tightly.

"What's the plan?" Sapnap asked.

"We'll have to barricade the portal," Skeppy said. "No one must get in or out."

"You and Skeppy can do that," Dream said. "As well as gathering resources, just in case we'd need backup."

"I will have to move my tether to you," Bad replied softly, "since you're the one who can teleport and call us."

"Fine by me."

When Bad waved his hand, the red ring of light now circled Dream's neck instead of George's. He willed it out of sight again.

"If we make it out alive, I'm considering us even," Dream said.

"That's fair." Bad nodded.

"Best case scenario," Skeppy started, "the Wither doesn't exist, and we won't have to end up fighting in the first place. Otherwise, we fight for Mautia, if not, for each other."

"It's been a pleasure working alongside you," Sapnap said.

With that, the trio turned towards the bastion, and walked into the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, the Moors is a combination of the Nether and the End! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated~ They motivate me to write more!! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑
> 
> I've got a [CC](https://curiouscat.qa/gravitasfallen) if you want to talk about things (＾∇＾)


End file.
